


Fang Under Fang

by Vroomian



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Original Character(s), Other, Poor Life Choices, Sasuke Uchiha's brain, Soulmates, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, no romance because everyone's like, twelve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-21 18:08:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13746456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vroomian/pseuds/Vroomian
Summary: "Are we sure he's really an Inuzuka?"(The answer is no.)-Character reborn as Inuzuka Kiba not only has to deal with bullshit ninja magic, but soulmates being a Thing.





	1. First Fang

**Author's Note:**

> okay so this is the thing i wrote for camp nano in 2017 and then let it sit in my drafts ever since. i have zero time to be writing new stories but this one is already mostly done so imma just go for it.
> 
> this is a soul mate au, btw

"Are we sure that he's really an Inuzuka?" Kaede Inuzuka, chunin, asked while peering down at the little wrinkled face in the crib. "He's real quiet."

Her partner Jun rolled his eyes and rested his head on his crossed paws. "Don't whine about easy guard duty. You'll jinx us."

"I'm not complaining! It's just…" Kaede looked in the crib again. The baby continued to be quiet and watchful. Creeeepy. "Hana-sama was  _never_ this quiet."

"Hana-sama was a hell brat."

Kaede rolled her eyes, but didn't disagree. The clan heir was one of those babies that resented anyone who wasn't their mother. If Tsume-sama was away for ten minutes, she cried like the world was ending.

Still. Something was bothering Kaede. "Even his chakra is quiet. I can barely feel him, even though he's right  _there_."

It wasn't _natural_ \- babies always felt like miniature suns to her, because they lacked the control to keep their chakra under their skins. Kiba Inuzuka was only three months old but everyone in the clan knew that he was strange. His chakra didn't feel anything like Tsume, or his sister. It didn't even feel like Inuzuka.

Jun huffed, but didn't disagree. "If I wasn't looking at him, I wouldn't think he was there." He said. "His scent is…it's like he doesn't  _have_ one."

Yeah. That was the other thing. "A bloodline thing from the father?"

"Must be. He's way to young to be doing it on purpose."

"Will he even be able to bond with a partner?" Kaede asked softly. Sent was a key component in the bonding process. Kaede herself, while not particularly gifted, could scent Jun from nearly three miles away.

"...I don't know. The elders wanted Tsume to tell them who the other parent was." Jun said after a pause.

Kaede blinked. " _What_?"

The was… very strange. The children of the clan head belonged to the clan head - no one else, regardless of their status or bloodline or even if they were adopted, had a claim on them. It was twice as strong if the clan head was a woman, because she did all the work by herself anyway. The identity of Tsume-sama's children was between her and her personal mednin. No one else had a right to know that.

She buried her fingers in his thick white ruff. The elders must be worried to even bring it up. "And Tsume-sama didn't kill them?"

Jun snickered. "She roughed them up some. Still, they were right about one thing. The pup will have a hard time getting a partner."

And an Inuzuka without a partner was… a lonely thing. She didn't even want to think about it. If she lost Jun she had no idea what she would do. Die, probably.

"He's got the marks." Kaede said, like she was trying to cheer herself up. She poked the red fangs on Kiba's cheeks and the baby blinked for the first time in a full minute. "And he  _looks_ like an Inuzuka. That has to count for something." She made a silly face at the kid, who didn't react beyond sticking his fingers in his mouth.

Jun studied the baby in the crib. "Yeah. Maybe."

Small brown eyes stared back, for all the world like he understood what was going on.

* * *

Hana glanced at her little brother with her mouth pursed. Kiba was lagging behind like he always did, wincing at things only he could hear chakra control still wasnt quite good enough to keep a steady flow to his ears. His face was covered by a scent blocking mask, even though he was five years old - way too old to need help regulating his sense of smell. He was so weird. Most Inuzuka five year olds were overjoyed on their birthdays, but her little brother was blank faced as always.

Five years old meant you were considered responsible enough to finally, finally get a partner.

Six years ago, Hana herself had made the long trip to the kennels, hand in hand with her mother; talking nonstop about her future partners and how cool they were going to be, to the point that Tsume had resorted to shoving dango in Hana's mouth and calling it good.

Kiba seemed content to plod down the road with his hands folded into his volumous sleeves. He reminded Hana of the Hyuuga elders she saw one time.

"Hurry up, Kiba!"

Kiba flinched back like she screamed it in his ears, and Hana scowled at the flare of guilt that induced. It wasn't her fault that Kiba couldn't regulate his hearing either! She just - forgot sometimes.

Still, Kiba picked up the pace, falling in step with her.

The Kennel was really a large, open air building, built specifically for housing bitches about to pup and their Inuzuka partners who made up the guard rotation on the building. There were very few things more protective than a paranoid Inuzuka worried for their partner's welfare. Even Mom had to submit to their inspection, and she was the clan head.

It'd been scary, but worth it. Hana had seen the three Haimaru brothers and fallen in love. She patted on of them on the head, enjoying the familiar weight pushing into her legs - not enough to knock Hana over. Just a reminder that they were there, and she wasn't alone.

Hana glanced down at her little brother. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. His heartbeat was barely audible, and his scent was incredibly faint. Even when he was a baby, Kiba had been hard to sense.

It was like he was a ghost.

(It set Hana's teeth on edge, but Kiba was her brother, so she endured it.)

"Ready?" She asked.

Kiba stared at the building and Hana couldn't tell what he was thinking. Normally she would be able to scent it, but all she could smell was the Inuzuka in the building, and the fresh green of growing things. "Sure."

Good enough.

The inside smelled like wet dog and fresh milk, and beyond that, the clean excitement of puppies. Hana can't help the way a smile spreads over her face. The first time she came, she was to nervous to appreciate the overwhelming feeling of safety and happiness that pervaded this branch of the kennel.

"Hana?" Kiba's voice brought her back to earth.

She cleared her throat. "Alright, let's go get you a pup, pup."

Kiba just stepped closer to her shadow, like he was a Nara and it was some sort of protection. Hanna rolled her eyes, but led the way in. He was just a little kid, no matter how much of an old man he acted.

There wasn't a door in front of the informal meeting room, called that because it was used to introduce the pup to Inuzuka children.

Hana hoped over the waist height gate in the door, and helped Kiba clamber awkwardly over. He froze once he was in the room.

Inside was a familiar scene, and Hana smiled when Kiba made a breathless noise of protest. It really was too adorable for words. Roughly two dozen pups of all colors and a few other Inuzuka children were playing in the middle of the room — and standing watch over them were half a dozen she-wolves. One of them broke from the knot in the corner and trotted over to shove her nose in Hana's hand. "Daughter of the pack."

Hana held perfectly still and let the inspection happen. Yubari lost her eyes years ago, but that just made her nose more keen. Nobody got close to the pups without her say so.

"Mother of the Pack." She replied, as per tradition.

The she-wolf huffed, amused. "Hana-chan. Have your shadows accepted their own names yet?"

Hanna rolled her eyes. She was never going to hear the end of that. "The brothers are the brothers. Anyway, we don't need em. I know who I'm talking to,Yu-chan."

"Yes, I gathered that. What brings you here today?"

Hana ruffled her little brother's head. He's too entranced by all the puppies to even protest. "It' Kiba's fifth birthday."

Yu-chan paused. "But there's only — " then she stopped, her pale eyes going wide. "Oh. Kiba-chan. I didn't… smell you."

Kiba snapped out of the cuteness coman and bowed, because he was secretly a Uchiha in disguise. "A pleasure to meet you, Yubari-san."

Hana rolled her eyes. So stiff. Why did he insist on being this polite around the clan? They were family, and more importantly, they were pack. "Yeah, yeah. Just go meet the pups, kid. Me and Yu-chan got grown up stuff to talk about."

The look Kiba gives her is as insulting as it is doubtful. "You're eleven."

She flicked his ear. "More grown up than you, brat. Shoo."

Kiba ducks under and flashes her a rare smile.

Hana's brow knits now that he's not looking at her. Her stomach gnaws, twists in on itself like a snake eating it's own tail.

Yubari inhales deeply, scenting the air. "I didn't notice him at first. And if I didn't notice him..."

Hana found her hand buried in one of the Haimaru brother's fur. "Yeah." She said quietly, mouth a thin line. Kiba was - was a ghost. The two of them watched in silence as Kiba approached the squirming pile of puppies. He seemed to gravitate to one of the white ones with brown markings on it's ears and around it's mouth.

He approached carefully, staying low to the ground, with his hand outstretched so the pup had a chance to smell him .

Hana can't say she surprised when all the pup does is ignore him.

Kiba freezes.

Hana can't see his face.

He tires for two more hours - even going so far as to pick up one of the pups. Nothing works. The pups ignore him and so do the mothers and the other children. Kiba stood with his head down and his hands fisted at his side. Eventually, Hana couldn't watch anymore.

She approached her little brother and wrapped her hand around his shoulders. "Let's go home, little brother." She said quietly.

Kiba takes a shuddering breath and his hands unclenched to touch the clan marks on his face. "I guess she was wrong. It doesn't really count." He said.

"Who was?"

But Kiba only shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

Heart hollow, Hana took Kiba home.

It was a long time before she sees him smile again.

* * *

Kiba's fifth birthday passed, and he didn't gain a partner. That was fine, if heartbreaking for him. Then his sixth passes. No partner. The spare returns empty handed once was bad enough. His seventh birthday was last week and still, Kiba returned with no partner. Once was understandable. Sometimes the right pup just hadn't been born yet, and no one could blame the kid. Three times?

Tsume had a quiet word with some of the medics.

Tsume sighs. That kid was such a headache. He was Inuzuka enough to have the marks — he looked like a male copy of her, for fucks sake. It wasn't the looks. It was just…

_Everything_  else.

Inuzuka's were pack animals, just like their partners. They were boisterous and family driven and friendly, if a bit rough

Kiba didn't act like an Inuzuka. He was shy. He was quiet. He never caused trouble or fought with the other pups, because that would require them to actually talk to him.

Tsume couldn't remember the last time she met a shy Inuzuka kid, and she'd been clan head for nearly ten years now.

"Peace, Tsume." Kuromaru said. "The pup will be well."

With a sigh, Tsume folded her arms. "I don't know what to do with him sometimes. He'll never have a partner! How can you be Inuzuka without a partner? He can't learn the clan style. He might not even be able to learn how to track things, because he still needs sensory dampeners outside the clan compounds. He doesn't fit, and the whole clan knows it, including him!" But how can she ask him to change who he is just to fit in with the clan? They were Inuzuka, not Uchihas.

Kuromaru closed his eyes with a wuff. "There's still time. It might just be that the right pup hasn't been born yet."

"What if they never are? If something happens to me or Hana, he'll be clan heir."

And the clan would never accept it. Oh, they might play nice about it, because they weren't actual animals, but it would come down to two options: Kiba would be challenged and lose, or Kiba would be pressured into stepping down.

"Let the boy grow into himself. He seems to be enjoying the academy."

"You mean he hates being here." Tsume corrected him.

Kuromaru went quiet.

It was true. Kiba avoided the rest of the clan like they had fleas. The boy's impeccable manners set him at odds with the other children, all of them rambunctious hellions. Like Inuzuka children should be.

Neither of them noticed the small shadow on the door. An already quiet chakra smoothed itself out to near nothingness. A small hand clenched and released. Silent feet turned away from the room, back into the darkened hallway.

* * *

He can feel his hands clench on his knees, claws priming into skin. He smoothed out his face with a deep breath. He is not his emotions.

Kiba's chakra is pushed back, deep under the skin until he can barely feel it. It sits in his stomach like a tiny sun.

With that done, he exhales once, grim as a doctor about to turn off the life support of a lost cause. Practice makes it come easy.

Mother. He thinks, shapes the word like a breath and gives it the half remembered laugh. He fixes the moment in his mind.

It's not Tsume.

Kiba is sorry that she got him, instead of the real Kiba. But that's not who he is. 

Who _she_ was. 

Once upon a time, there was a girl who lived in a large house on a hill with four younger siblings. They were, in the way of all younger siblings, unspeakably cute and inescapably annoying at the same time and she loved them more than she could say— not that she wouldn't sell them all to Satan for a Piece of gum, the brats. The girl helped her mother and argued constantly with her Father, and she was content.

Because she understood that life was a story, she also understood that she was not a main character. She was meant to live an average life without great loves, but also without tragedy.

She was wrong. Tragedy came in the form of a sluggish bleeding nose and a dark Qatar with look between doctors. Her story came to an end, surrounded by her younger siblings and all she could think, as her vision faded and her siblings begged her to hold on a little longer, was —

Thank god.

Thank god, she didn't have to live through losing one of them. All of the pain was put on the shoulders of the living. It wasn't one of them in the hospital wasting away, so her last sight would be of them, healthy and whole while they would have to see her emancipated corpse. She wouldn't have to deal with the emotional pain, because she would be dead.

It was, perhaps, the most selfish thought she'd ever had.

And she pays for it.

It's not the end, and she wakes up. Cold and tired and surrounded by people she can't see through her blurry eyes, with ears and nose fat too sharp to make any sense out of.

She looses every single one of them anyway.

The loss of everything she's ever known is incomprehensible. She can't even feel pain. She's too numb.

Chakra has felt from the very beginning like a thousand bumpy balls rolling around in her veins. Just shy of painful and impossible to ignore entirely. Instinctively she pushed it away, down deeper into her bones, until the sensation was almost impossible to detect for herself.

She loses her family and gains a clan that's too wary of her to make any sort of effort. The failure.

An Inuzuka without a ninken isn't an Inuzuka at all.

(They were all nice people, but it was made clear; they were not  _his_  people.)

* * *

It happened three months after the start of Kiba's seventh birthday.

Tusme woke to in a cold sweat to something pushing at the edges of her mind and it tasted like fear. Familiar fear — not because she's felt it before, but because she knew where it was coming from.

_Kiba!_

She spun out of her bed and into a shushin so fast she almost blacked out. She landed in her son's room in a crouch, a snarl on her lips.

_Protect the pack!_

Only there was no one to protect Kiba from. Her youngest child was staring off into space, a look of horror on his normally stoic face.

Tsume rushed to his side. "Kiba! Kiba, what's wrong?"

He didn't respond. Not even when she shook him. It was like he was somewhere else entirely, like —

Than Tsume noticed the way Kiba was clutching his wrist and her heart sunk.

She knew what that space meant.

The head woman gathered her son into her arms and pulled both of them into a shushin.

They needed the Yamanaka.

* * *

 


	2. Second Fang

The sound of someone kicking his door in downstairs snapped Inoichi to terrible, terrible awareness. For a split second adrenaline surged - an attack? Then he reached out and groaned and buried his face in the pillow. Tsume's chakra signature flicked downstairs. Inoichi did _not_  appreciate being called out in his own home at a truly stupid hour of the morning. He had to make sure that Ino got to school in - he glanced at the sky through his open window - three hours. Joy.

"This better be good." He grumbled, only pulling on his flack vest as an after thought. This wouldn't be the first time Tsume broke in just to force him into a drinking party; though that stopped around the time she had her second child.

"What is so terrible that it can't wait for three hours — Tsume!" His irritation dropped faster than the vase Ino broke this morning.

Tsume was standing in the middle of his kitchen; and in her arm was a child. His eyes were open, but blank. He didn't even blink when Tsume whirled around. Nothing suggested that he was  _present_.

"Tsume? What's wrong? Is that - is that  _Kiba_?"

"Look at his wrist." She snapped.

Inoichi did. His stomach drop out.

The boys left wrist was covered in red. In blood.

_That's impossible._

Kiba was the same age as Ino — hardly old enough to gain the shadow of a Name, let alone one deep enough to bleed.

_Clearly not._  The voice in the back of his head that sounded like Shikaku said, voice dry.

"Right. Put him down there, and let me take a look at him." He swept the kitchen table clean and Tsume laid the boy down on top of it. Inoichi tried not to wince at how small the boy was, how still.

Inoichi couldn't sense the boy's chakra at all.

"I'm going in. Guard us." He said. Not that he thought he needed to  _ask_. It was to center her, to keep the barely contained panic and rage in check. He couldn't worry about her and do a mind dive at the same time.

Tsume stilled. Some of the wildness faded from her eyes, letting the steady shinobi Inoichi knew surface. "Right."

Inoichi took a deep breath and met the kid's empty eyes.

He stepped sideways and  _fell_  —

Into red. Red sky, black surroundings, like the world in negative. Bodies littered the ground and The smell of old blood hung heavy on the air like a physical weight. A murder of crows was crying out somewhere, far too close for comfort, horrible and harsh. Cold radiated along his back. He glanced over his shoulder.

A gaping black pit yawned behind him, a black so dark it looked liquid.

_Damn_.

Inoichi landed on the very edge of Kiba's conscious mind.

The whole scene was hazy, like a thin veil he couldn't quite see through. Something moved under the veil, to fast to catch. It wavered like a image projected onto water.

Kiba's own mindscape, behind the inverted world, interacting strangely with whatever this film over it was. even if Inoichi couldn't make out any details. That was a good sign. The only still mind was a dead mind.

"Kiba?" He called. "Kiba, your mom sent me to find you. Will you please show me the path?"

Inoichi  _could_  make his own path, but that would just leave the kid a vegetable. He didn't dare try to alter this world in any way. He had no idea what this genjutsu — and it  _was_  a genjutsu — would do if it broke inside Kiba's mind.

_Shatter it, probably._

Tsume would never forgive him if he hurt her son, and Inoichi would rather fight a bear. While naked. And hogtied.

There was a moment of absolute silence. Even the crows stopped. The surroundings rippled again, and Inoichi had to close his eyes against the nausea it inspired.

Then the ground rumbled once and Inoichi reflexively fixed himself to the earth as it shifted around him like water. Great slabs of marble rose up with a sound like bone grinding on bone. One of them cracked the ground under his feet, lifting him into the air.

No, not slabs of stone — statues, each as finely carved as any found in a noble place. Or more fittingly, a temple. Inoichi recognized them. Each of the statues was a god. He himself was standing on top of the head of Susano, nearly twenty feet high and polished like a mirror.

Finally the world stopped changing, and the ground stilled as if it never moved in the first place.

And there leading off into the distance, was a line of god pillars, leading very clearly to the heart of the genjutsu.

Well. He  _had_  asked for a path.

The only thing to do was follow it.

* * *

The closer he got to the center, the more the smell of blood hung heavy in the air, coating the throat with each breath. The genjutsu was detailed enough that Inoichi wanted to gag. The last time he'd seen this much blood on the ground was in the war. The closer he got, the more he began to recognize the bodies.

The red and white fan was a big tip off.

Every single one of them belonged to an Uchiha. Some of them he recognized. Shiro worked in T&I. That one was a patrolman who often came in for flowers for his wife. That one was a student in the year above Ino, and loved playing dress up with her.

Inoichi pushed away the nausea threatening to surface. It might just be a genjutsu. It might just be a sick mind. Still. Inoichi doubted that he would be seeing Shiro at work tomorrow.

He pushed through, leaping from path to path, around the creeping influence of the genjutsu. It grew more and more tightly woven the closer he got, to the point where it was less like a veil over Kiba's mindscape and more like reality. Inoichi suspected that only the statues of marble were truly keeping him out of it's grasp.

_Thank you, Kiba._

The last statue came as a surprise - it wasn't of a god, it was something he would've expected from the Valley of the end, or the Hokage Monument. It was a little strange to be standing on top of the founder of Konoha, it's keeping him safe.

Kiba stood in the middle of the of a body strewn street, chakra flaring with dark frustration. Inoichi carefully landed behind the boy , letting himself make a small noise.

Kiba whirled around, kunai in hand, and Inoichi saw why. Huddled behind him was a blank eyed boy with classic Uchiha looks. Fugaku's second son. His chest was rising weakly and his eyes are empty. Behind him -

Oh. Oh no. Mikoto's blank eyes stare up into the sky. Her hands were open.

Inoichi raised his hands up. "Hello, Kiba-kun. Do you remember me?"

The boy studied him for a long second. "You're... Ino's dad." His eyes are suspicious. "Are you real?"

The kid knew this was a genjutsu? Color Inoichi impressed. Most people wouldn't know there's something off about this place; the illusion was too finely woven to break easily; the sharingan at work. Of course, it probably helped that it wasn't on  _his_  mind.

It was on his soul mate's.

Uchiha Sasuke, The still bleeding name nearly carved into his wrist exclaimed.

Speaking of.

Inoichi crouches down and keeps his voice soft. Kept his eyes off Sauske. "Is there something wrong with Sasuke-kun? Can I help him?"

Kiba hesitates for a second. "I can't — he needs me."

Inoichi doesn't swear, no matter how much he wants to. The bond was already in place than. He was too late to stop it from forming until they both grew old enough, like normal.

_Fuck._

What even  _caused_ this? Normally the catalyst was that two people were so similar that they just clicked on a mental level. What would a loss of this magnitude mean to a child like Kiba?

Outwardly, he only offered Kiba a smile. "Protecting him, huh? Just like your mom. She's waiting for us outside. Don't you want to talk to her?"

Kiba's eyes flicked down to the boy and his hand went to the name there. "It hurts." His voice is small.

Inoichi's heart broke. "I know it does, kiddo."

They always did.

Finally, Kiba dropped his kunai. It vanished before it hit the ground. "I want to go home." He said.

"Okay. Okay, I'll take you to your mom alright?" He offered the Inuzuka his hand.

Kiba's face shuttered and he shakes his head.

Inoichi never knew what he meant to say. He reversed the jutsu and both he and Kiba remained solid while the rest of the world faded away.


	3. Third Fang

Kiba wakes. The world moves in slow motion, and vague shapes that might be people swim in and out of his vision. His head feels like a mountain, full of rocks, and his arm is on fire. He manages to turn it just far enough to catch sight of his left arm, his wrist.

A piercing shriek of something almost mechanical breaks the silence in his head.

What is...

What is  _that_?

Letters. It's just letters, but they feel more like a rope made of molten metal; like Kiba has to get up, go to the other end. Unnatural, his brain screams at him. It's on his skin, burning. Kiba jerks but all he can manage is a weak twitch of his fingers. He has to _get it off_  -

"Shit, he's awake -"

"- need to calm him down-"

"Knock him out!"

He thrashes against the hands on his body, because he has to - to go find the other end of that name and -

Kiba doesn't know.

He doesn't have time to decide. Eventually a hand filled with pale green touches his forehead and he falls down, back into the dark.

* * *

The hospital waiting room always smells like sickness to Inuzuka, the reason most of them went to their own vets instead, no matter how many jokes it got them. It's only four in the morning, so Tusme was alone in the room. Inoichi was long gone. He had a daughter to bring to school.

Seven years old. Kiba was only seven years old.

Head in her hands, Tsume repeated the phrase in her head, unable to move. Soul mates were a fact that no one in the ninja business liked to talk about. Civilians and Nobles could write all the love stories they wanted; every ninja knew what soul mates really were.

A weakness.

There was a reason clan kids only found out about Soul mates when they turned genin.

Tsume's mouth pinched. She'd dealt with soul mates within her own clan, and it was never pretty. It was like having a target painted on your soul, and no amount of armor would cover it. Inuzuka Haru found his soulmate, nearly three years ago. A Yamanaka genin - a nice girl with long hair and a wicked sense of humor. They were happy together.

Then the Yamanaka girl died on a mission, and took Haru's heart with her.

The scene was fresh in Tsume's mind. She still heard it, echoing through her head on bad nights.

It started with the screaming. Haru dropped to his knees in the middle of the compound, clutching at his partner with bruising hands, one wrist bleeding - and then fading. The Yamanaka's name was gone within the hour, leaving Haru's wrist blank as the day he was born.

Haru screamed until he ran out of voice, until the med-nins hand to paralyze his throat just to keep him from permanently scaring himself. Not that it mattered. The Inuzuka lost one of their best trackers in return for a shell even Haru's partner couldn't wake. In the end Haru died one week later, his soulmate's name scratched back into his wrist.

"He'll be fine." Kuromaru said, quiet. He'd shown up around two, radiating worry in his own way. It still felt loud in the utter silence of the hospital waiting room. "Kiba is a strong kid."

Her hands clenched on her knees. "The Uchiha are gone." She'd heard the med-nins talking, heard the ANBU whisper to each other. People always forgot about Inuzuka hearing.

Kuromaru bowed his great head, pushed his way into her lap. "I know."

"Mikoto's boy will need a place to stay."

"They won't let you, Tsume."

"But- "

"No. I know you, partner. You  _can't_  take him in. The politics would be a nightmare, and he's the last of the Uchiha in Konoha. That makes him the head of his clan. You can't adopt him."

She knows. She knows, but if she has to sit here and stew in problems she can't solve, she would go insane.

"Inuzuka-sama?"

Tsume was on her feet without conscious thought. "Here." She snaps.

A tired med-nin in a white coat turned around. His pale skin was offset by a set of dark eyes Tsume would admire if she gave a shit about anything but her son right now. "I'm medic Daisho. Your son is stable, but sleeping. If you'd follow me?"

"And the other one?" Tsume demanded, on her feet already.

By the time Tsume made it he hospital, Inoichi alerted the Hokage what happened. Sasuke was brought in, still covered in his parents blood and unconscious.

The medic hesitated, eyes flickering away. "Normally, I couldn't tell you anything, but considering the circumstances…" He delicately trailed off, but Tsume got the message. Because her son's soul mate was in the hospital, he'd make an exception. "Physically, the boy is fine. It's his mind that suffered the most. He was placed under a unique genjutsu. A strong one. I've never seen anything like it. Your son was caught up in the backlash."

A genjutsu strong enough to push Sasuke's mind into reaching out early.

Tsume rubs her temples. "Thanks to ya, Healer."

The man bows slightly, sensing the dismissal in her voice. "I'll leave you alone, Inuzuka-sama." He turns and leaves.

She slumps into the chair at her son's bedside, hands buried in Kuromaru's fur.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Kiba dreams -

Blood. Blood on his hands and on his face - a body slumped in his arms. A red and white fan.

His wrist is clean, but too pale, milk white.

Pain, radiating up his arm.

He looks down and his wrist is no longer blank. There's a chain around it now, thin as a spider's web, heavy as the hokage monument. He knows what it says.

It's Kiba's name.

The firsts thing Kiba does after waking up is empty the contents of his stomach onto the cold, clean floor. Tile, white and grey. The walls are a soft green and the covers of his bed are starchy and rough against his skin.

The hospital.

A flicker of rage, foreign to his mind, and Kiba dry heaves again. That wasn't his emotion. That — shouldn't be on his body, in his _mind_ —

A large hand eased the hair out of his face, and he flinched back at the unfamiliar touch.

"Easy, child."

Kiba's eyes were blurred with tears — but he knew that face. It was carved into the mountain, and right now, seemed to be carved out of stone. "H-hokage-sama." He choked out.

Why was the hokage here?

"Tsume didn't want to leave you here alone, but there are things that she must see to. I volunteered to keep you company."

So his mother trusted the word of the worst murderer in the village?

No. That was unfair. Tsume trusted the hokage for his strength. That was just common sense here, no matter how much it hurt Kiba's mind.

"O-oh." His mouth tasted like vomit. The hokage helped him sit up, hands gentle. Calloused. Kiba couldn't relax under hands like those. Sarutobi is the best murderer in a village of murderers and it makes Kiba tense.

The hokage watches him for a few long silent moment from he place on the edge of the hospital bed. Kiba tries not to feel like a rabbit in the eyes of a frog. It doesn't work.

_Predator._

"You don't trust me." The Hokage said, in his kindly old man voice. His hands are folded casually on top of his knees.

Kiba breaths. Calm. Another flicker of rage and he fights off a gag. "With all due respect, sir, I don't really know you."

Sarutobi's eyes go sharper even as a smile passes over his face. "How very unusual. Inuzuka believe in the pack, do they not? I could be said to be the head of your entire pack."

Kiba grabs the rising sense of loneliness by the neck and strangled it before it could get near his face. His chakra pulls down even deeper into his skin, gathers around his heart, like it was trying to shield him from a serious injury. "Yes sir." It wasn't like he was wrong, after all. Most Inuzuka, from what Kiba could tell, did consider the hokage the head of the whole non-family pack that made up Konoha.

Kiba… bitterly wished that he'd been born into any family but his. The instincts, the unspoken traditions — he just didn't understand them.

(It was mutual, and most Inuzuka looked upon the partnerless son of the clan head with pity and confusion.

The words from that guard his first moth alive were like a prophecy.

Are we sure that he's really an Inuzuka?

The longer Kiba lived with the clan, the clearer it became that the answer was no.)

"Manners, from an Inuzuka as well. I never thought I'd see the day. You're a strange one." The hokage mused around the pipe in his mouth.

Kiba couldn't stop the flinch this time. It was the cruelest thing he could have said. The manners were something that he learned from one to the old, retired Kunoichi that offer watched him when his mother and sister were busy. An Inuzuka by marriage, if not by birth. Her husband was long gone, but the man's partner and his widow still lived on the clan grounds. Kiba didn't think that she expected him to take to it so easily.

As a child, there was very little he was in control of. A horrible shock to a woman who'd moved out early and supported herself alone for nearly ten years. His bedtime, his food, even his friends — it was all dictated by the people around him.

Kiba  _loathed_  it.

Living with people was exhausting, and he grimly attended the academy with a singular goal in mind: becoming independent as fast as possible.

Manners were a way of exerting that control on the people around him. It had the side effect of making people outside the clan think that he was older than he looked.

He was so  _tired_  of being treated like a child.

Sarutobi didn't mention it. "Do you know what a soulmate is, Kiba-kun?"

_There's something in his head, thoughts that don't belong to him — get out! Get out get out get out getoutgetoutgetout—_

Imagine twenty four years of silence. Imagine being free to think what you wanted, feeling only what you wanted. Your thoughts could be the worst, most vile things, could be poison in a cup of sake - but they belonged only to you.

Then something that feels like a solid oak settles into your head, into your mind and sends out roots — faster than a blink, something grows, ivy into a brick wall. You can tear out the ivy; but the roots are so deep that the brick will crumble without it.

How utterly unnatural, how utterly revolting, to have someone else's mind nestled inside of his own. His skin crawls.

_Disgusting._

Kiba looked at his wrist. If only he could —

The bond turns into a live wire in his mind, and he recoils back from it.

There would be no breaking of bonds tonight. His own body betrayed him — no matter how awful it felt, the body found it right. Perfect and natural. And so very, very ugly.

Kiba's stomach rolled again. "I can guess."

The hokage blew out a cloud of smoke. "Yes. I thought you might. Normally, soul mates are rare among Shinobi. It requires a two compatible minds, so alike they just click together — a connection might develop gradually as two people become closer — or instantly, as one child's personality settles and finds one that matches or compliments them."

"So the second one happened with…" Kiba can't force the name out of his mouth. His wrist felt like it was burning, a pattern of thin lines he could almost read by sensation alone.

_I will not throw up on the Hokage. I will_ not  _throw up on the Hokage._

The Hokage studied Kiba. "Hmm. So it seems. Sasuke-kun is awake. Do you want to see him?" The tone made clear It wasn't a question, so much as a fond indulgence; Kiba was the errant grandson begging for a treat that his doting grandfather was happy to grant.

Kiba—flinched back again, this time from the force of his own emotions. Yes, his mind shouted out with joy, lifted his heart and the corners of his mouth. Of course Kiba wanted to meet his other half, who wouldn't? What an odd question —

Then reality came crashing back in.

Those were not his thoughts. Or rather, they  _were_  his. They belonged to a part of him that never existed before today. Grimly, he dove into his mind for a split second, following the thread of emotion to the part of his mind that, presumably, housed the soul mate bond.

_There._

It was like looking at a fluorescent light — bright and warm and utterly artificial. Kiba could almost see the shadows it cast on his mind.

Breath in. Breath out. Shore up his mind against the panic and shuddering disgust. It was like ants crawling up around his mind.

He — caught the 'Yes, of course,' before it could be born and opened his eyes.

"No thank you. I think," Kiba said. "That I would like to sleep. Hokage-sama."

This time, Sarutobi's shock was visible. His indulgent expression dropped off his face like a vase shattering on the floor.

Kiba met his eyes. He wasn't going to go meet anyone until his brain stopped feeling like it was  _on fire_. Or until this whole nightmare went away, whichever came first. He needed to be alone.

He needed to meditate.

"If that's all. Hokage-sama." Kiba said. His voice remained polite to the point of blankness. Breath in. Breath out. He could deal with it. Of course he could.

There was no other choice.

Sarutobi's eyes were sharp as shattered glass. Smoke drifted between the two like a physical question. Finally the old man stood and made his way to the door. "Why don't you sleep on it, Kiba-kun? Maybe you'll feel different in the morning."

_Unlikely_.

Kiba ducked his head anyway, bowing as much as he could from the hospital bed. He wished that his sleeves were wide enough to hide the way his hands shook. "Of course, Hokage-sama."

With one last puff of smoke, the Hokage left, leaving Kiba alone with his mind, and the connection on the other side.

The first thing he did was fold his stiff legs into full lotus position. He didn't need a pose anymore, not after years of practice but it helped with focus.

There was something growing in his head like a vine strangling a tree.

_Fine_.

Kiba had some gardening to do.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no updates for April, probably. i'll be busy with nano


	4. Fourth Fang

Sasuke sits in a room, different from the traditional feel of the Uchiha district. The walls are painted a muted, soft blue. The couch he sits on is a mismatched faded red. The room isn't put together for looks; it's for comfort. The walls are taken up by overflowing bookshelves, title written in a script he can't read. Pictures line the wall, but the peoples faces are a little blurred, like a smudged watercolor painting. Dim, soft yellow light spills from the strange looking light fixture. Everything about the room screams strange - foreign. He's never seen anything like it.

It's not real. He knows it like he knows his family, like he knows the Uchiha crest. It feels real though - except for the window.

All Sasuke can see through it is blue; blue dark enough to match his eyes, and small flickers of silver fish catching light and dark shapes moving slowly, unfathomably big. Sasuke's never left Konoha, never seen the sea, but he imagines this is what the bottom it feels like. It's a genjutsu of some kind, and he should try to break it.

He doesn't, content to sit in the dim light and watch shapes move outside the window. The sea is endless, vast and Sasuke is safe here.

Sasuke sits for a long while, until a thought hits him. He doesn't know where his mom is! Finally, he gets up from the couch. There's two doors in the room, one cracked leading inwards and one closed, on the opposite side. Sasuke can see light pouring through the cracked door, the smell of bread baking.

The other door is on the same side as the window.

It leads out, Sasuke knows without knowing how. Out, into the sea.

Sasuke hesitates for a second. Logically, his mother should be in the kitchen; it's her domain, the place she rules over. Except... Sasuke knows she's not. A lump of lead in the bottom of his stomach forms. His feet take him to the unopened door. He touches the handle, finds it cold. Not freezing, but like it's been submerged ice water. He turns it - the door stays locked. Sasuke frowns. He glances around the room, but there's obvious key.

He needs a key, but - Sasuke freezes.

His... his pocket feels heavier than it did a second before.

Sasuke reaches in, tentatively, and his fingers find cold metal. He takes it out.

The key is the same shiny metal of the door handle, the gold that's not really gold. It's simple in design, made up of straight lines, and the end is a square inset with a flat black stone, on which something Sasuke can't read is written. It's not Kanji or Hiragana - it looks simple. He squints at it, but the word doesn't change. He glances at the bookcase. It's the same language.

He exhales and tries the key in the door. It opens with a small klick, swings inwards. Revealing a wall of dark water.

Sasuke flinches - but the water stays on the other side of the door. Not even a drop gets through.

_Definitely_ _a genjutsu._

Sasuke inhales and squares his shoulders. he has to find his family! His father's voice tells him to get going. He's an Uchiha - how can he be afraid of a little water?

He steps through the doorway, into the sea.

* * *

The mind is a tricky thing to navigate. Perhaps Kiba should've been born a Yamanaka. He knows his own mine; before he was a Inuzuka, there was a small moment when he was nothing but mind, spirit.

It was easy to reach down, back into the part of his head that feeling left. He detaches mind from the body like it's meant to do that. It doesn't hurt. He just turns to light.

There, just underneath the chakra veins is dark red thread.

...The read thread of fate? It starts at his wrist, but that's not all. The cord follows his arm up, and then branches. Kiba shrinks into himself.

One path leads to the heart. On leads to the brain.

Okay. Don't panic - he already knew that it was bad, he just wasn't expecting  _this_.

Brain, heart, wrist.

Can he break it? He reaches out with his mind and "grips" it, with his will. One deep breath - and Kiba yanks.

Kiba gets no warning before the pain hits. Even outside his body, Kiba feels his very dna reject the idea. It's so bad, he loses his grip, rubber bands back into his body, and it's like being burned alive and drowned at the same time. A pain that goes beyond the body, into the soul.

It makes him sick, sick with a helpless perfect horror. Cold, like he'll never be warm again. His wrist burns.

He can't breath. He can't  _breath_.

He jerks out of meditation, back into his body, and dry heaves over the side of the bed again. Nothing comes up, but his hands are still shaking from that awful horror. Okay.

Okay. Can't break the bond.

Lesson learned.

It fades quickly at least. Becomes a memory. This was a natural thing for his body, his soul, strange as it seemed.

Kiba can hear it in the back of his mind - a low hum.

Kiba blinks and tilts his head, listening to something that comes from within rather than without

It... it's  _singing_.

His shoulders ease down.

The pain is forgotten; all he can hear is music.

* * *

Kiba needs more information.

How did soul mate bonds work ? Were they limited in what they could feel? How many bonds could a person posses? How many people had them? Were they a good thing, and if so what benefits did they bring? What were the drawbacks? Besides attempting to break it, the bond just sat in the back of his mind, singing to itself, and occasionally sent out flashes of Sasuke's emotions.

The first thing Kiba does after getting out of the hospital is head for the one public library in Konoha. Another disconnect from his old life - the way information was hoarded here. One library and it was sparse, barely full shelves - mostly dusty histories and dogeared fiction. He browsed until the electric lights gave him a headache, but found nothing except trashy romance novels full of heaving breasts and terrible writing. Kiba hesitates over a beat up looking copy written by someone named Jiraiya, the only one written by an actual ninja. It looked... fictional, to put it politely.

After a few hours, Kiba gave up with the library and turned to the bookstores instead. There was a better selection there, but nothing really scientific. Mostly fantasy novels written by civilians. Some of them were pretty well written. Kiba left the store with his own bag.

Tsume would tell him, but she wasn't really book smart, or you know, interested in soul mates. Plus, she'd been... weird around him, since the whole soulmate thing. It wasn't obvious, but he knows her. She can't quite look at him without getting pinched look in her eyes. Tsume loves him, Kiba knows. He just doesn't know how far that extends. He doesn't know how the Inuzuka deal with clan members who get soul mates.

He... he's too afraid to ask. Kiba is still a child in body here. He can't support himself if they lose their patience with the clan head's strange child. Better to be as unobtrusive as possible until he has his forehead protector at least. Genin are adults in every way that matters.

No. Kiba needed to find someone both willing and knowledgeable. It made a part of him squirm to think about asking one of the academy teachers. They were strangers and, for some reason, he didn't want them knowing. It made the hair on the back of his neck rise up.

A flash of yellow from the corner of his eyes. He turned to watch a bird with bright yellow feathers flit past his window.

Yamanaka-sama.

Kiba paused, and sat up on the bed. Ino's dad already knew. He was the one to get Kiba out of that nightmare, where the sky was red and the air smelled like blood . Kiba got up, headed towards his desk and opened a drawer. A small white card sat inside, Inoichi's name printed in tiny, neat letters. A card with the flower shop address. Yamanaka-sama left it for him if Kiba wanted to talk after he woke - or at least, that's what the nurse told Kiba. It... should be fine to ask him. Right?

Yamanaka's knew about mind stuff, so they'd be the next logical choice.

Decided, Kiba walked out the front door ten minutes later with the white card clutched in his hands like a lifeline.

The shop was easy enough to find. It was located outside of the clan district, in the middle of the thoroughfare. The inside was busy and Kiba stared at the various women and men coming and going. He rubbed his sweaty hands on his pants. Kiba's nerves were strung tight. His wrist was burning again.

Maybe he should come back later.

Yamanaka-san was busy, probably. He was a clan head, and a very busy man. He didn't need Kiba taking up his time -

"Kiba-kun?"

Speak of the devil.

Kiba slowly turned around. "Yamanaka-sama." He bowed the perfect ninety degrees and straightened up. He opened his mouth - and nothing came out. Kiba didn't know what to say.

Inoichi seemed to know that, because he only gave Kiba a small smile. "No need to be so polite, Kiba-kun. Your mother and I are old friends. How have you been?"

Kiba shrugged but said nothing. He knew Ino - all the clan kids knew each other, at least a bit. Outside of looks, she wasn't anything like her father. For all that Inoichi saved him, he was still a stranger and Kiba wasn't very good around them. He felt the little tremble of his hands start up again and his eyes drop to Inoichi's feet. His face felt like it was burning.

This was a bad idea.

The silence stretched, but Kiba didn't know what to say. Now that he was here, he was coming up blank. Just because Inoshi helped him out once he'd be willing to just share his information? Kiba didn't even have anything to offer Inoichi in return. Things between different clans were weird. Kiba didn't know enough to say weather the Yamanaka would simply help an Inuzuka. Inoichi said Tsume was a friend, but how far did that go?

"Do you want to come inside?" Inoichi asked when the silence stretched too long, his voice kind. "I just got a new blend of tea, and I couldn't use a second opinion. Ino, much as I love her, isn't one for taste testing."

Kiba looked up slightly. Was that an offer? He steeled himself. "T-thank you. I'd like that." He said, voice only barely louder than a whisper, and immediately hated himself. Why was he so fucking shy? It wasn't like this man's opinion mattered to him.

Inoichi didn't say anything but he did smile, kind and very paternal. "Let's head inside than. My shift is already done for today."

* * *

Inside the Yamanaka house, Kiba curiously looked around. It was much like he expected, with Greenery hanging down from most of the walls. There were little touches of ninja, signs that Shinobi lived there. Kunai on the table. A scroll or two open on the floor. Kiba could smell the perfume Ino used all over the place, plus the weaker one of the soap and flower of Sakura.

He paused.

Tsume's scent, heavy with terror and determination lingered by the kitchen table. Kiba could smell it, even through the cloth mask he wore to blunt the outside world. Inoichi's sent already saturated the room, the flowers he worked with blending to make something that belonged only to him. Two day old shock and worry. Worry for Kiba.

And... that was all. Kiba knew he bled all over the table, but he still can't find his own scent.

"Why don't you sit?" Inoichi said. " I'll go put this away."

Kiba took a seat at the table gingerly, moving the chair out with a wince at wood on tile. One of the soft velvet pieces was missing. He'd been here before, for Ino's birthday parties, but never for long. He touched the table, covered in nicks from kunai and other things. The only difference between this and the one in Kiba's own kitchen was the lack of dog hair and claw marks.

Inoichi was only gone for a few minutes. Then he popped his head back into the room carrying a tea tray. " Sorry for the wait, Kiba-kun. I had to unearth my tea pot from Ino's room. I swear everything in the house winds up there at least once." Inoichi put the tray down with a smile and sat opposite Kiba. " I can't thank you enough for helping me. It's hard to find people who are willing to taste test for me these days."

Kiba reached for the cup and then hesitated. " Why?" he asked.

"Hm?"

"Why are vollenteres hard to find?"

Inoichi laughed sheepishly. "Ah, there might have been a few duds along they way. Not everyone appreciates the risk of combining new things."

Kiba eyed the cup like it was full of sewer sludge. He swallowed and took the cup anyway, very aware of Inoichi's bright eyes on him. "Thank you." Kiba said, pulled down his mask, and took a sip.

Despite his fears, the tea was actually pretty good; the taste was light and full of flavor. For some reason, it reminded Kiba of sunflowers. The sent was soothing, if a bit strong - but that was just the Inuzuka nose talking. Everything smelled a bit strong to him. Just inhaling it made his shoulders relax. He looked up to find Inoichi staring at him, slightly surprised.

"It's good." Kiba tells him.

Inoichi shakes his head slightly and beams at him. "Really? it's meant to be more relaxing sort of tea civilians would like, but I'm still not sure. Civilians can be extremely strange and picky."

" I think that they will." Kiba had nearly 25 years as the most civilians of civilians and her other life. " It's got a nice flavor."

" That's a relief." Inoichi said. "Now what did you need I made you come all the way out here?"

Kiba blinked and looked down at his tea - the name on his wrist. "Um," he said. That was really blunt for a ninja. Of course he was used to being with the Inuzuka who're the definition of blunt, but he never expected that one of the Yamanaka would be willing to just come out and State the issue like that. still he could do that. He took in a deep breath and decided to just jump in. " I wanted to ask you …. I wanted to ask you about soulmates."

Inoichi didn't look surprised. "I suppose that would make sense. Why did you come to me?"

"You already know about me and... Sasuke. I... I can't make myself tell anybody else." Kiba gave frustrated sigh. He didn't understand half of what was going on in his brain these days.

Inoichi gave a small nod. "That's normal." he said. " Soulmate bonds are gradual things, and when they do form, it's extremely private. Only close family and friends are informed, if anyone is at all. Especially new ones. I can't imagine one that sprung up that suddenly would be easier to talk about." He leaned back in his chair, hands folded neatly on the table.

Kiba blinked. "Over time?"

"That's right. A soulmate bond is - we don't really know. There are theories, but no real proof. It just happens sometimes. " He paused. "How much do you know about chakra, Kiba-kun?"

Kiba shrugged. "A little bit." The academy hadn't mentioned it at all yet, but Kiba did a lot of reading. He knew the basics of it. It was fascinating, strange.

_Magic._

Inoichi looked relieved. "Good. That makes this a little easier to explain. You know that people have affinities with chakra. Water, earth, fire and so on?"

Kiba nodded.

Inoichi sat up straighter, one hand tapping on the table, his long hair draped over his shoulder. "It can happen for people too. The soulmate bond is something like that - only it goes deeper. If you're that compatible, it can happen very, very fast - but it's never instant. It's more like two people deciding to share… well. Everything. Consciously or not." He smiles a little, eyes distant. "That's why it happens so rarely with shinobit. Few of us  _want_ anyone that close."

"So it's not the universe is deciding who is the most compatible with you?"

Inoichi blinked and gave him an look. " of course not. Where did you get that information?"

Kiba blushed and looked down at the table. "The- the library had a lot of books."

"Ah. Written by civilians, I assume?" He shook his head. "Perhaps for them, that's the way it works. Not for shinobi."

Kiba felt the tips of his ears turn red and he took a sip of tea to cover it. How was he supposed to know if civilians had any idea what they were talking about? "So. what else can you tell me?"

Inoichi hummed in thought. "Let's see. The thing that would be most relevant to your situation is that you don't have the gradual build-up. Your bond came up out of nowhere. It's natural to feel a little unnatural when that happens, because your mind didn't have any chance to get used to it. Sasuke and you are classmates but not friends correct?"

Kiba nodded. He new Sasuke but he didn't  _know_ Sasuke. They were acquaintances at best.

"That's a little trickier." Inoichi said and took a sip of his tea. "The only thing you can do right now is make the bond stronger by spending more time together. The bond will only finalized itself after use both accept it. Well, you remember affinities?"

Kiba nodded.

Inoichi sighed. "Your affinity was Sasuke. You're too close to each other - in spirit, in chakra, in temperament, whatever - to not be soulmates. That's very, very rare." He gave Kiba a serious look. "When Sasuke lost his family, his mind reached out for anything that he could take to stay stable. It's very likely the two of you would always have been soulmates - this just accelerated it."

"Oh." he took another sip of his own tea and thought about what sort of things he and Sasuke would have in common.

They're all gone.

Kiba flinched back from the thought.

"Oh." He said again, voice quiet.

_Loss._

That's what pushed Sasuke towards Kiba. Similar souls.

Similar wounds.

"Kiba-kun." Inoichi's voice drew Kiba up out of his thoughts. "You went very pale. Do you want to talk about it?"

Before Kiba could respond, the door slammed open somewhere beyond the kitchen.

"Dad, I'm home". Ino's voice filled the room, bright with laughter and cheer. Inoichi's reaction was almost instantaneous. His face went soft and fond. "You wouldn't believe what Sakura wore to class today, it was so terrible! I was embarrassed just to look at her. I have to make sure that she gets some new stuff because it's no fun winning against her when she makes it so easy."

Inoichi's whole face went soft, and he smiled. "Welcome back, my dear!" He called to Ino.

Kiba looked down at his wrist and tried to suppress the flash of guilt.

Ino really liked Sasuke, and everyone knew it. Kiba didn't mean to steal that away from her. Inoichi hadn't mentioned it, but he had to know. It wasn't like Ino was subtle about what she wanted.

Kiba stood up, wincing at the way the chair scraped again. "I should go-"

Ino walked into the kitchen in a swirl of color before he could say anything else. "I saw another pair of sandals. Is Shikamaru here again? He can't hide here every time his mom wants him to do chores -"

Ino stopped dead, staring at Kiba.

Kiba froze.

The moment shivered, pulled taught. Vivacious Ino was still and staring at him, and it was like an invisible fist pressing down on Kiba's lungs. The name on his wrist prickled. Why was she staring at him? Did she know, somehow? Did Inoichi say something to her?

Ino's eyes narrowed and she crossed the kitchen in quick steps. She leaned into his personal bubble. " _Kiba?_ "

Kiba can't help the way his whole body tenses. He's never been particularly good at talking to strangers no matter how young they are. "...Yes?"

"It really is you!" Ino glanced down - at his face? "You're not wearing your mask! I've never seen you without it!"

Kiba touches his face uncertainly. Same old skin, the slightly raised triangles of his clan markings standing out. "...I'm not?" He didn't mean to make that sound like a question. He just didn't know what the big deal was. Why was she freaking out? It was just his face.

"Wait." Ino frowned. "You haven't been in school lately. Why are you in my house wearing no mask?" She gave her father a sharp glance, then turned her eyes back to you. It's unnerving to see her pupil-less eyes up close.

"He had a couple questions about a matter that needed my expertise." Inoichi said, sounding amused. "A make up assignment for missing school, I believe. Princess, why don't you go wash up for dinner? We were just about finished anyway."

For one second, Kiba thought that Ino would protest - but in the end she just rolled her eyes. "Fine. Don't tell me then." She flounced off in a storm of hair and perfume.

The smell hits Kiba and he makes a face. He pulled his mask up just to make the scent breathable. Talking to Ino always gave him a headache. she used far too much perfume.

"You have a very sensitive nose, Kiba-kun." Inoichi said. "Your mother always made that face around the other girls too. To much perfume, not enough air." He shook his head. "Well. I do have some scrolls with more information in them if you want them."

Kiba was no fool. He went home with a armful of scrolls, thanking Inoichi politely and sincerely at his front doorstep. When Kiba was halfway down the street, he sensed eyes on him. Kiba glanced over his shoulder and saw a curtain of blonde disappear behind a second floor window. Too pale to be Inoichi. Kiba frowned

Ino... could be a problem.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey it's only been two months right
> 
> tell me what your favorite part is


	5. Fifth Fang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eyyy guess who finally got of their ass and finished editing a chapter
> 
> There might be more errors in spelling than ususal i’m Posting this from my phone atm.

Sasuke watched the faint, indistinct lighting sway with the invincible currents. Outside the door was a path, smooth and clear as glass, dry. Even though he couldn't see the either the top or the bottom, Sasuke was… calm. Nothing could reach the bottom of the sea without being crushed by the pressure - nothing except Sasuke. No one could hurt him down here. The sea will protect him.

...Protect him from who?

A flash of red from the corner of his eye. Sasuke's head jerked up, his heart a drumbeat in his head. There was nothing but the shadows of fish, great beasts in the distance. Sasuke hugged himself, trying to get his breathing under control.

He can't shake the feeling was forgetting something. He looked around again, but there was nothing but the calm, slow blue. The coolness of the water radiates, settles into his bones.

Where was Mom? Where was Itachi?

How did Sasuke get trapped in this genjutsu in the first place? It's like his memory is made of some opaque glass. His grip just keeps sliding off it. Where was the rest of his clan? Where was the old woman who sold dumplings, the ramen stand owner, where were his aunts and uncles?

...safe from what?

Another flash of red, this time with a name attached to it.

Itachi.

His name shakes through Sasuke, a temple bell rattling bones. Sasuke gasped and his mind lit on fire. His family — his clan— all of it was gone.

Itachi — _That man_ killed them all.

Sasuke was alone. He didn't understand. The world never meet this little sense before. The world had never made this little sense before. His mother was beautiful. His father was strong. His brother loved him.

Now, Sasuke knew, one of those things was a lie.

A sob tore itself of his throat

"Mom!" He called out - but only bubbles escaped his mouth, water stealing the words before he could make them.

Hate flared up, punched the breath from Sasuke's lungs. He collapsed to his knees.

"I'll kill him." He mouthed the words. No bubbles this time. Sasuke felt airless, empty.

His hands clenched on the clear road beneath him. Even if it took in his own life, Sasuke will kill that man.

His eyes burned — and so did the rest of him.

A flicker of light refects off the waves. Sasuke looks down and gasps - fire dances around the place where his nails dug into his skin, like Sasuke bled light and heat instead of red. He's underwater, but the fire bloomed anyway. It started small, racing over the back of his hands like red and yellow lizards; then it picked up speed. It devoured his forearms without a thought.

Sasuke was startled out of his misery with a yelp. He waved his arms around before he realized - it didn't hurt.

It didn't feel like anything but hate. It climeiled his body until it reached his heart and the pain stopped. Hear his eyes are dry. And he has no idea why he was crying in the first place.

Tears never help anyone.

It would be easy to stop the fire.

He'd never have to burn again. His family is dead. The water promise piece, promised a safe home. At least here, Sasuke's safe.

His family is dead.

Sasuke doesn't move.

He's the last of the Uchiha .

Fire Is all he has.

Slowly the fire ate up his arms, and Sasuke became a torch, became a flair. It burned, but there was no pain; just heat and a rush of energy almost great enough to drown out his greif.

If Sasuke's couldn't have his family, he would have his revenge.

He reached for the flames and —

\- burned.

* * *

Sasuke jolted awake with the memory of flames devouring him whole and a headache, like a rotten tooth in the back of his mind. His eyes ache. His mouth tastes like death. Sasuke struggled to sit, his arms weak as a civilian child. Antiseptic tainted the air. Soft green walls, the feeling of scratchy sheets under his palm. The blandness in decoration and the smell in the air are strangely familiar. The hospital?

The last time Sasuke went to the hospital, it was on a visit with his mother. She greeted most of the nurses and doctor's by name. Sauske remembers the respect she commanded, and he remembers his spine going straighter, his manners becoming more impeccable, no matter how annoying the nurses's cooing got. Sasuke would never bring shame to his mother by throwing a fit.

The thought of his mother fell into the flame inside him, like a log into a bonfire. Hate and grief flare up.

For now, all he feels is heavy, like a boulder in his stomach. He swallows back against the tears with a fresh surge of anger

Outside the lone window, the sky is a dark blue, shading into black. How many days has Sasuke lost?

He pulls his knees up to his chest, hides his face in them.

A burst of concern unfurls like a flower in the back of Sasuke's mind. It feels like light and warmth, with the undertone of sea salt.

Sasuke cuts off the contact with an angry slash, furious with himself. A flare of pain — he glared down at his wrist.

Inuzuka Kiba, written in careful, even handwriting on the inside of his wrist.

He was in Sasuke's class, but they'd never spoken. Kiba was like the jacket he always wore: a boring beige color that blended into the background.

Sasuke snorted. Like that loser could be his soulmate. He was in the bottom of the class rankings. A defect from the Inuzuka Clan, he heard his father say. The second child of the clan head sure, but what sort of Inuzuka didn't have Ninken?

Inuzuka Kiba was a failure.

Sasuke would never accept a failure as the other half of his soul.

Soulmates made you weak. He knew that. His father, wrists blank, often expounded on it when he didn't think Sasuke could hear. Ita— that man never showed his wrists at all, but sasuke couldn't think of any reason for him to hide his status. That man never listened to their father on anything else.

Sasuke wondered how Kiba was doing —

He slaped back the tendril of concern again with a cruel hand and raised up the fire inside him. Finally, the connection faded.

It's harder than he expected it to be. Kiba's mind is like an ocean he can't see the bottom of, without a single ripple along the surface. Sasuke could look down forever and not reach the bottom; it would put out the fire spreading through his own mind.

Sasuke wanted to burn.

Sasuke colapsed backwards and stared up at the cealing, blinking away the sting in his eyes. He's tired.

That was the only reason that Ita — that man left Sasuke alive was because Saskue was too weak to fight.

Sasuke wasn't going to be weak. He didn't need a soulmate.

He didn't need anyone.

Especially not Inuzuka Kiba.

* * *

The general sense of fire down the other end of the bond shifts - becomes aware. Kiba jerks, hand going to his wrist instinctively. It's like feeling a computer boot up in the back of his mind, except organic. A string of mumers he can't quite make out.

The bonfire turned into an inferno.

Sasuke was awake.

Kiba - found himself on his feet, facing the direction of the hospital. The pit of his stoamch grew cold. He didn't remeber doing that. The scrolls Inoichi-sama lent him were scattered onn the ground.

He runs a shaking hand down his face. He read about this — this compulsion. It's common in the first days of a new bond, a most people thought was to solidify the importance of the two people involved to each other.

Kiba wanted to go to the hospital.

And because he wanted it, Kiba does nothing of the sort. Instead, he picked up the scrolls, carefully checked them over for damage - he's only borrowing them after all - and put them away.

After that, he sits on the bed. He still wants to go, but the pull was lessened now. A nagging itch rather than fighting agaist a current.

He doesn't go. Not that night, or the next, or the next. Not even when his mother comes in with news from an an ANBU.

Kiba pretends he doesn't notice her worried looks when all Kiba does is say "Oh. Thank you for letting me know."

(Is the Hokage trying to hint at something? Is Kiba supposed to drop everything because Sasuke woke up? Is that the normal reaction of a new soulmate?

But Kiba doesn't know Sasuke. They're not close at all.

Besides. The connection at the back of Kiba's mind is nothing but heat, flame.

It's obvious that Sasuke wanted Kiba at the hospital about as much as Kiba wanted to be there: not at all.)

Instead, Kiba goes back to the academy two weeks after Sasuke wakes up. His return is unmarked by anyone, because children are self absorbed at the best of times and Kiba fades into the background without ever trying. Not even Iruka-sensei gave him more than a distracted welcome back before he returned to yelling at Naruto for one prank or another.

Things settled back into rutine. Sasuke ddin't return to the academy in the third week either.

Instead, the nightmares started.

* * *

Blood flicked over the tatami, ugly red. The sky was black — black as ink, black as Itachi''s hair, black as his parents empty eyes. The moon hung int the sky, fat and sickly white, leaching the work of any warmth. That same moon looked down on Kiba, watched him freeze, become a coward the face of danger — watched him let his family die without even an attempt at revenge. Blood dripped from blade to floor. Kiba's heart beat in time with it.

 _This_ , Kiba thinks, _isn't my nightmare._

His nightmares are quiet things, things that fill Kiba with fear like a cup fills with wine, or a lung fills with water. The last sight of his family before Kiba's own body takes him under. Various doctors murmuring beond a closed door and the same prognossi every time: incurable. Inevitable.

Kiba's dreams _sink_. They don't burn.

Just like that, something shatters in the back of his head and Kiba regains control of his body. He steps forward, without a care for the splash of blood he makes.

Kiba looks back over his shoulder — and he finds Sasuke staring at hm with wide, terrified eyes, frozen in place. He looks like a paper boy against the black out of the world behind him. The only color is a speck of red on his cheek and it follows the curve, up to his dark Eyes.

This is a terrible place.

Kiba feels th we at moment his heart stops.

Mother!

Kiba woke in a cold sweat, curled up around his pulsing wrist, the lingering taste of Sasuke's nightmares on his lips. The first time it happens, Kiba woke the whole house with his screams. Tsume and Kuromaru broke down his door, certain Kiba was being murdered. It was embarrassing to be shaken awake by his frantic mother. 

 The second time, he bit through his lip rather than cry out.

He poked the bond and got only the slow, deep ping of unconsciousness back.

Sasuke doesn't know any better, Kiba told himself as he carefully sat up and reached for the roll of bandages he'd taken to keeping there. He's only seven and his whole family is dead. Of course he'd push the memories and nightmares out. Kiba would do the same thing.

It was the seventh time this week. Kiba is ready to give up on ever sleep again. His body aches with borrowed pain and his head feels heavy from lack of sleep. He stumbled when he walked in the mornings, clumsy with exhaustion. Iruka-sensei kept giving him worried glances whenever Kiba fumbles through class exercises, even taijutsu, Kiba’s best subject. 

Kiba fumbled with the bandages, using his teeth to unravel the old ones on his wrist. There were already soaked through as the name sluggishly bleed like an open wound — something Kiba knew meant exterme distress in his soulmate. His hand was mostly paralyzed by the pain. Kiba set his shoulders and tore the bandage off quickly as possible. 

Ow. 

The bangaed was stiff with blood and Kiba can’t even be surprised. Ever since Sauske woke, Kiba’s wrist had bled. It was worse when Sasuke dreamed.

One month in, and the nightmares showed no sign of stopping.

When his wrist is bandaged again, Kiba sighed and settled into a cross legged position on his bed, hands on his knees. If he couldn’t sleep, he might as well meditate.

He had a feeling he'd be doing a lot of meditation for the next few years.

* * *

Ino was staring at Kiba like he was hiding limited edition Uchiha pictures under his hood. Amazingly, Kiba continued to ignore her, though Shikamaru saw the way his shoulders inched up with every passing moment.

Ugh. What a drag.

"Ino, let up." He said. Kiba wasn't really a friend, because it was hard to make friends with someone who didn't speak or do anything but read stupidly difficult books; still, he was willing to leave Shikamaru alone while he napped, and never snitched on anyone. That made him alright in Shikamaru's book.

"Quiet, Shikamaru. I'm winning." Ino leaned forward, blue eyes never blinking. "He'll cave eventually."

Shikamaru buried his head in his arms. "Why don't you just go over there?" It's not like Ino was _shy_. If she wanted something it was harder to keep her from going through with it.

Ino scoffed. "Dad said not to bug him."

Shikamaru looked up. "What? Why?"

Inoichi never stoped Ino from chasing after Sasuke. What made Kiba diffrent?

"I don't know. It's weird. Sasuke-kun and Inuzuka both go missing around the same time?" Ino leaned forward more, until she was braced against the desk. "It's related. I know it. My feminine intuition says something's fishy."

Shikamaru rolled his eyes. "Like you have something like that."

The thing was - Ino was right. Something _was_ weird about Kiba and Shikamaru can't ignore it. The Inuzuka looked more tired and withdrawn than usual. There are bags under his eyes, the only bare part of his skin. He looked like he hasn't slept well in weeks.

Shikamaru didn't like mysteries.

They were troublesome to the extreme, and the Nara as a whole tended to ignore them when they could. It was practically a clan wide hobbie, all the way from the first generation of Konoha.

Unfortunately, Shikamaru couldn't ignore this one, because it went to class with him.

Inuzuka Kiba was normally a quiet kid, one Shikamaru didn't mind because he kept to himself. It was weird for an Inuzuka, but not weird enough to worry about. He didn't even have a puppy to wake Shikamaru up during naps. 

So. Kiba was fine. Not as good as Chouji, but that was a pretty high bar so Shikamaru was willing to overlook it.

Finding out Kiba was missing for a few days was strange, but not alarming. Sometimes clan training interfered with school. No one else even commented on it. Shikamaru had skipped out on few days himself, the same with Ino and Chouji.

But Sasuke was missing too. Ino and Sakura lamented it constantly, to the point that Shikamaru fell asleep out of self defense whenever he heard the word Uchiha. Normally only one clan had kids out of school at at a time. Some sort of old clan rule thing no one cared about but everyone followed anyway.

Then Kiba returned, the little bare skin plae white, like a ghost. He justs slipped back into class one day, without comment; he went back to reading obscure books in the corner like he never left. No one noticed him leave and no one noticed him return.

Except Shikamaru, who could tell something was off.

Everyone knew when Sasuke showed back up. He stared at the class like he wanted to kill them with his mind, and he resented every single one of them. He avoided everyone. The teachers treated him like spun glass, and one of Shikamaru's cousins whispered abou Uchiha classmates who'd left and never returned. How no one had seen any sort of patrol in days. Sasuke hadn't smiled in days, like his face was trapped in a permanent scowl.

He wore armbands now, and a high collared shirt with the Uchiha crest on it. That wasn't weird. People changed their clothes all the time. If it wasn't for the new black bands around Kiba's wrist, Shikamaru wouldn't have had second thoughts about it. Plus the way Kiba's eyes would sometimes flick to Sasuke, assessing and oddly reserved — Sasuke only give him a poisonous glare before ignoring him entirely.

Shikamaru knew that sometimes there were deeper connections that none of the adults liked to talk about. His father occasionally touched the elaborate engagement on his mother's wrist with a soft look on his face. It always made Shikamaru feel kind of grossed out, like he was seeing them kiss or something equally awful.

None of the ninja kids knew what it was, but the civilians sometimes did. When you were old enough the name of the person who was meant for you would appear on your wrist. A soulmate.

Seven was way too early.

Shikamaru groaned.

"Shikamaru?" Chouji said, for once stopping his snacking to look at him. "What's the matter?"

The Nara smoothed out his face, realizing that he'd been scowling. "Troublesome." He said, letting his head fall forward.

Chouji caught him before his head hit the desk. "What is?"

"Everything."

"Oh. That clears it up."

"Shut up.

"Potato chip?"

Shikamaru scowled. "I don't wanna investigate. It's so troublesome."

"You could always, you know, not." Chouji pointed like, like a traitor. Shikamaru hated when Choji was reasonable at him.

Shikamaru groaned again. Kiba wasn't doing anything exactly; he was the same as alway, quietly reading a scroll in the back of the class, but Shikamaru still couldn't shake the curiousity.

Ugh. _Ugh._

He pushed himself away from his desk with a scowl on his face, and plodded down the ailse between the desks.

Stupid stairs.

Stupid mysteries.

Stupid Kiba.

Shikamaru threw himself down into the empty chair by Kiba's side with a bone rattling thump.

The boy didn't jump, but he did peer over his book like it was a shield. "Nara-san…?"

The Nara glowered at him. "I don't get you." Then he buried his head in his folded arms again and tried to go back to sleep.

"...Okay. Good talk."

Shikamaru would figure it out.

...after he had a nap. Thinking so much was tiring.

Troublesome.


	6. Sixth Fang

Kiba wakes from another nightmare with shaking hands and heaving gut. He gasps and sits up, looks out the window. The light is the only light is from the moon, water and pale. Washed out. It looks the way he feels right now. He never wants to see that much of the inside of someone's brain ever again. Some of the Uchiha deaths were gruesome.

Itachi was a fucking sadist. Who shows stuff like that that to their little brother? Kiba remembered a girl looking down on the wrinkled pink thing and falling in love. She vowed to be the best big sister ever. Kiba doesn't know if she succeeded, but Itachi… claiming to be a big brother? It was offensive to Kiba on all levels. The girl he used to be didn't love much, but she tired to take care of her siblings.

When Kiba felt his feet would hold him, he stood up from the bed, and watched the moonlight slowly creep up over the room, across his feet.

Not transparent. Kiba's heart lurches with relief. Something about holding Sasuke's nightmares turns Kiba pale on the inside. He just… he  _feels_  so much. Kiba doesn't know if it's an Uchiha thing, a Sasuke thing, or a traumatized seven year old thing. What Kiba does know is he can't keep up. Everything is mixed inside Sasuke's head, instead of put into separate little boxes.

Kiba scrubs his hand through his hair, half sticky and unpleasant with he feels disgusting and terrible, but most of all, he feels tired. Tired to the point of collapse. He thought that Sasuke would realize what he was doing and stop, but it's been a long time. Kiba has to do something, or he'll never get another full nights sleep again. People are starting to notice.

Kiba takes a deep breath, smells Konoha's clean night air. It's clear and cold in the back of his throat, so much sharper than his last life; the trees heavy green mixed with the spice of curry, someone's dinner. It's hours old, but the scent hasn't faded at all.

His room is on the top floor, and it's child's play to open the window and slip out onto the roof. He glances over his shoulder - but neither Tsume or Kuromaru can smell him. They won't notice that he ever left.

He hesitates with foot on the windowsill. It's grating to be a child again, to need to ask for permission to go where he wants. Slowly he steps back down and heads downstairs to… leave a note or something.

Kiba finds Kuromaru sitting up in the kitchen, even though it's late enough to be worrying. He and Tsume don't really run missions, being clan heads, but they do have to worry about the village council. The smell of sake drifts through the air - a specialty nin dog type that someone in the clan brewed. Must be a meeting with the other clan heads tomorrow. Kuromaru almost never drinks otherwise.

Kiba shifts in the doorway, still undecided. He finds himself rubbing his left wrist, the name there.

Kuromaru's head whips around, looking -

-right at Kiba.

He can't say which of them is more surprised. It's the first time Kiba has been noticed before revealing himself in… ever. He stares at Kuromaro feeling strangely naked. Vulnerable.

"Kiba. What are you doing up?" Kuromaru finally asked.

Kiba hesitated, then holds out his wrist. "I was going to visit."

"...This late at night?"

Kiba ducks his head, glad for once of his faint scent. Nobody in the house knows about how bad his nightmares - no, how bad  _Sasuke's_  nightmares get. "He can't sleep. So I can't sleep. I was going to leave a note?"

Kuromaru gives a doggy huff. "Better to ask forgiveness than permission, huh? Well, I'm not going to stop you. Just - be back by sunrise? And try to get some sleep. I'll tell Tsume when she gets up. You still have school in the morning."

Kiba scratched him behind the ears, which he accepted with a please rumble. "I will." He promised.

Than Kiba pulls up his chakra and vanishes in a swirl of leaves.

* * *

The world spills by in streaks of green. Shushin isn't an instant teleport, and so it doesn't require much chakra, compared to other high rank jutsu. One of the reasons it's taught in the academy, or so Kiba read.

What it does need is situational awareness. It's not taught in the academy because kids don't have the control or attention span to not turn themselves into paste.

Still.

If Kiba has one thing, it's focus.

He moves slowly at first, cautious. The wind still feels like a high pitched whistle in his ears.

Dogging through wires and over buildings isn't easy, but Kiba's practiced relentlessly. He doesn't hit them, or the various shinobi bouncing around the place - he notices a few heads turn to follow the leaves he left behind, but he's moving too fast to stop now.

A flash of red and white, and Kiba's wrist pulses. He skids to a halt outside of the Uchiha compound. The white paint on the stone wall is peeling. Seven years of no maintenance shows in the rotted wood gate, barely hanging on it's hinges.

Kiba looks down at his wrist.

There's no thread, but he can feel the pull anyway; deep inside Kiba's chest, there's a flicker of flame, a coal - banked, but for how long?

_Red sky -_

_Dark water, the sea, the sea -_

Kiba shakes his head then rubs his eyes. He hasn't slept right in nearly three weeks, and it's hard to tell where Sasuke's nightmares end and Kiba's own began.

No. That wasn't right.

Kiba never dreamed about dark water. Water is safe, is clean. The girl inside him went to the ocean once. Salt and waves and rythym and it moved her, clinicle as she was. As He is. She swam in the sea only once, the last night before she began her four year stay in the hospital, but that was enough. Chlorine made her sick after, and she never swam in an artificial pool again.

(The girl drowned in her own lungs. Kiba sometimes inhales and it still burns.)

(Why does Sasuke dream about the sea? Konoha isn't anywhere near an ocean. Why is filled with such grief, such longing? Red sky over clean, placid water.)

The wall around the Uchiha district wasn't high, wasn't treated with anti-chakra paint like the hokage tower. Kiba hesitated a moment, glances at the gate - but something about it raises his hackles. Kiba takes a breath, then jumps up and over the wall, quick as a breath. Seven feet, taller than Kiba and clears it easy as pie. Kiba doesn't smile, but he can't stop the thrill of joy that shoots through him. His body is a machine. He can run for miles, fight until he drops, lift his arm without effort.

How wonderful it is, to be alive.

Then he's inside the Uchiha compound. His feet make no sound.

Kiba's heart races, glancing over his shoulder at the wall. A moment passes and he channels chakra into his ears just to listen for any sound of alarm.

Nothing.

Of course not. Kiba lets out a small exhale and shakes his head. Why would there be any sort of alarm?

No one lives here anymore.

Kiba finally straightens out of his crouch and looks around, taking in the Uchiha village. It's... normal. Houses, a little more traditional, line the roads. The night was quiet. In the dark, it seemed like the residents were sleeping; not murdered in cold blood by one of their own.

He inhaled. Dust.

Seven years is a long time. Kiba can't smell the blood anymore.

He walks deeper into the village, following the main road when he can. Trespassing in the yards of the empty houses feels a little... odd. Like there's pale skinned, dark-eyed ghosts watching Kiba's every move.

It's quieter here. Maybe some sort of seal in the walls to keep the noise out; or Keep the clan's secrets in. Even Kiba's footsteps are soundless - more so than normal; like he's not there at all.

Maybe the Uchiha's aren't the only ghosts in the compound. Maybe Kiba never really left his old broken body. Maybe his old family, his siblings, his parents are gathered around a vegetable and all they can do is call out to someone who can't hear them anymore.

Unconsciously, Kiba's feet slowed to a walk, then stopped completely. It wasn't the first time he looked at the world and thought: What if none of this is real?

His hands and feet felt cold. Freezing.

Then - a sting of pain.

Kiba yelped, sounding like a puppy getting bit on the tail. His flew to his wrist, to the name carved there.

The pain faded fast as it came - and with it went the feeling of being watched. He looked down at his wrist, ghosting over the slightly raised skin. It was hard to see with only the full moon, but the characters for Uchiha seemed a little... redder.

Kiba swallowed.

...it could be a coincidence.

Kiba doesn't think so. This world is different from the one he left behind; the presence of chakra itself means it has to be. Chakra imprints are a verified way tracking.

Kiba himself is proof of life after death.

(There are rumors about the Uchiha district. People who go at night speak of dark haired specters, of flickering flames in the night, of the smell of blood in the air - freshly spilled. It's been seven years but no one goes back to the district, not out of their own free will. Why? The village can only expand out so far, and more people are born everyday.

No one talks about the people who go in and don't come back.

People stop going, after a while.)

A breeze tugs at his mask, and it's not cold or warm. It's just air. Kiba still pulls down his mask and bows towards the empty houses. It might be the name on his wrist, but he knows he escaped something very bad.

"Thank you for your understanding," He said, only feeling a little silly.

When nothing happens, Kiba straighten up and pulls his mask back on. He turns and continues deeper into the district.

* * *

The Uchiha district was a ghost town these days, the wind blew trash down the formerly perfectly kept streets. The clan heads house was easy to find, and there's only a low wall around it. No traps, which made Kiba frown. Maybe Sasuke took them down before leave. He lives here, that much Kiba can smell. Maybe he didn't know how to put them up. Kiba bowed to the gates before he entered. "I'm sorry for intruding." He said to whatever might be there.

Kiba took a deep breath before he knocked on the door. If he hesitated, there's no way he would come back again.

The door remained silent.

Kiba knocked again to the same effect.

He hesitated. It seemed like an invasion of privacy, but... he closed his eyes and slipped into the bond for a split second. Sasuke's mind burned, not the banked coal it was when he was asleep - he woke when Kiba wasn't paying attention.

When Kiba's wrist tugs away from the main road, he reluctantly follows it along the banks of the Naka river, the moon behind him like a spotlight, a light in the sea of darkness underneath the trees.

Finally, Kiba breaks away from the Naka and moves deeper into the woods, past the oaks and ferns and Hashirama trees. The forests of Konoha are strange - plants that shouldn't grow in the same climates sit side by side like it's normal. Hashirama's gifts made no sense. Maybe he should look into that at some point.

Kiba stars finding clearings; training grounds, Some of them still littered with shuriken and kunai, their dull edges turned gleaming in moon's hand.

One of them is heard Sasuke before he saw him. The sound of harsh breathing, of metal thunking into wood. Kiba ducked through the trees, heading toward the source of the noise.

Sasuke, hair a pool of ink, laid out on the dirt, hands clenched around a kunai just like the ones stuck into the stump opposite him. He looked washed out, exhausted. Dirt smudged all over his face. Guess he didn't sleep so much as passed out. Kiba's wrist burns and he steps forward before he realizes, out into the clearing.

Just like that, something in the back of Kiba's head relaxes, like bow left strung for too long. Proximity, the bond taking the chance to reaffirm itself. Kiba and Sasuke, standing across each other. It's the closest they've been since the hospital.

No, before that even. Kiba didn't know what to expect about seeing his soulmate, but it wasn't… this strange nothingness. What is he meant to feel? Kiba studies Sasuke and Sasuke studies Kiba and neither of them take a step closer.

Sasuke looks… young.

Kiba can feel Sasuke in his wrist like another beating heart.

"What do you want?" Sasuke said.

Kiba jumped.

There was a long silence. Kiba cleared his throat. "Ah. Hello, Uchiha-kun." Too formal? Kiba almost groaned. He had no idea how to speak to children he wasn't related to, let alone traumatized ones. He deserved the look of contempt Sasuke sent him.

Sasuke walked forward to the post and began to pull kunai out. "Let's get this clear: I don't want a soul mate, and I especially don't want you as a soulmate. What. Do. You. Want?"  
"I wanted to make sure you were… okay." Or, okay as he could be. "I… you were having nightmares."

"That's none of your business!"

"I just…" Why was he so angry? Kiba wasn't the one who did this to the two of them. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Kiba knew it was the wrong thing to say the moment it left his mouth. Saskue flares.

"What do you know about loss?" Sasuke spits. "Your family is alive, your clan is prospering! I am alone, except for a murderer."

Sasuke always had exceptional aim. His barb cuts through the last string holding Kiba's pain like a kunai through a cobweb.

What does Kiba know about loss?

A city, where children went to school, but not too learn how to kill. The tired faces of Kiba's siblings as their older sister wasted away. The books Kiba would never read again, the knowledge he would never learn, the jokes no one would ever tell her again.

The face Kiba would never see in the mirror again.

Twenty-three years of memories that don't exist outside of Kiba's head.

Sasuke staggers back. Unimportant in the tide of Kiba's sudden grief.

Does Sasuke understand how lucky he is? He has the Uchiha compound, years and years of records, a clan symbol painted on the gates and on his back. Graves to visit.

Kiba had nothing.

He never got the chance to mourn.

He pushes and pushes and pushes — letting the sea inside him pour down the bod like a river trying to flow into a teacup. Thousands of years of history, thousands of people who looked and talked like Kiba did, thousands of hours with friends who'll never laugh with him again.

His family.

_Her_  family.

Kiba feels like he's being stabbed with every remembrance. Time had faded it some, but not enough. Now the loss was only excruciating, rather than incomprehensible.

(Still, Kiba was glad to be alive. It felt like a betrayal, no matter how much  _her_  family would've wanted him to move on.)

Like a great tree falling into the forest, Sasuke falls to his knees - slow and silent, with no one around to hear him. His mouth opens and all that comes out is a gasping sob.

Kiba watches dispassionately. Like seeing himself from above, watching his strange body watch Sasuke, expression far away and uncaring. "I know about loss." He said, distant as the sea from Konoha.

Sasuke touches the tears without comprehension. "W-what is this?"

The second he speaks, whatever grief took Kiba breaks. He comes back to his body and, with a shaky exhale, packed the thought back into its own little box. Yes, everything he knew and loved is gone, but Kiba can't live in the past. Right here, right now, Kiba was alive. His family loved him and they lost him. The present was all he had.

"They're gone." Sasuke said, staring up blindly. His eyes are red rimmed, but the tears stopped for now.

"I know." Kiba can't do gentle, feelings too raw. The most he can do is truthful.

Sasuke gasped, trying to hold himself up on shaking arms.

Kiba crouched next to him without saying anything.

Sasuke's eyes were far away. Like he was seeing something so much worse than the clearing with its scorched and gouged ground. His eyes had bags under them, his skin was pale; more ghost than boy, more marble than human. Sasuke was desperation distilled into form. He was seven years old.

He was always so afraid.

Kiba lets reaches out with his mind and, with infinite care, gathers up Sasuke's pain like pulling apples of a tree. He pulls fear and desperation in. His hands start to tremble.

How can anyone feel so much?

(It  _hurts_.)

The last Uchiha's arms stop shaking, and he manages to get to his feet.

The Yamanaka recommended learning about each other, before making any permanent connections. They didn't have that luxury.

He and Sasuke would just have to learn more about each other now.

The bond was good enough for that, and Kiba I could almost feel Sasuke and his mind like a physical presence.

Kiba helps Sasuke stand, even though the boy was still staring off into the distance, eyes glazed over. The first time Kiba's ever touched his soulmate outside classroom spars. Kiba glanced down, and there it is.

Kiba Inuzuka, spelled out on Sasuke's wrist.

"Let's get you cleaned up," Kiba said. "We have school soon."

Sasuke doesn't respond. He follows Kiba's pull with blind eyes and heavy steps. It'll do for now.

Overhead, the first rays of the morning sunrise colors the sky a deep red.


	7. Seventh Fang

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey it's been a while! if you only read this story, it's because i got into a bit of a accident irl, and I've been out of commission for a bit, and pretty busy besides.
> 
> also, because this was a nano project, i did no planning at all for it. it needs much, much more editing than my other stories lol

 

* * *

 

Sasuke sat in silence, watching a virtual stranger move about his kitchen like he knew it like the back of his hand. How much of does Kiba know about him? How much did he harvest from Sasuke's head while Sasuke was… gone.

Sasuke doesn't know.

Kiba is still a mystery to Sasuke. His mind is a bottomless dark sea, filled with things Sasuke has never seen before. He never spoke in class; he disappeared into the background which is strange for any Inuzuka, let alone the son of a clan head.

Sasuke recalls one fuzzy impression of Iruka-sensei gently correcting Kiba for reading in class. Iruka-sensei never yelled at him, not like he did Shikamaru or Chouji. Sasuke labeled his a teacher's pet in the past and forgot about it.

Sasuke can't forget the choking grief Kiba shoved down his throat. He can still taste it, like sour milk. Like old blood.

Kiba takes cups out of the cupboard, careful to not disturb the chipped white mug with the Uchiha fan emblazoned on it.

Sasuke's father used that cup every morning before he left for work. Mother filled it without question and Father always touched her hand before she pulled away. A small, intimate gesture that spoke more than any word ever would.

Mother always smiled at father like the sun after.

Kiba went to the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk. He filled the cups and went to the microwave next. Sasuke watched the cups spin around blankly. Neither of them spoke. Ding went the bell and Kiba pulled the cups out, holding them with his long sleeves over his hands. He turned around and stopped dead, staring at Sasuke. His eyes were a little wide, the only indication of expression on his masked face.

Something warm dripped down his face and Sasuke reached up. His hand came away clear. It takes a long moment to register. Tears.

How long had Sasuke been crying?

Kiba finally moved. He set a mug in front of Sasuke and sat opposite him at the kitchen table, like he belonged there. Sasuke can't even feel insulted by it. He's pathetically grateful Kiba doesn't ask.

Kiba sits neatly, hands folded, back straight. It can't cover the uneasy set to his shoulders. The mask does nothing to hide the way his eyes dart around.

Sasuke knows the horrors he's seeing.

There's still blood staining the floor.

The anger pushed back the grief. Kiba doesn't know his family. He didn't see them when they were strong, so what right does he have to see them in their weakest moments?

Father would be so ashamed.

"What do you want?" Sasuke bites out.

Kiba sighs, like Sasuke is the one who invaded Kiba's home in the middle of the night. "We need to talk about - this." He touches his wrist.

Sasuke's wrist warms. Answering to Kiba's touch. It feels like sinking into a warm bath after a long day of training. He glowers at this betrayal of his own body. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"The - soul mate thing." Kiba speaks slowly, like he's thinking about his every word before he says it. It hurts to watch him thinking, an echo of That Man.

"There is nothing." Sasuke realizes his hands are wrapped around the mug and pushes it away roughly. "We don't have a thing. We're strangers."

Kiba watches him without commenting. Sasuke can't tell what he's thinking around the mask. "... Well. That's true."

Sasuke folded his arms.

"You never wanted a soul mate." Kiba says.

Sasuke glares at him. Obviously.

Kiba nods a little. "Alright."

That stops Sasuke in his tracks.

Kiba turns the mug in his hand, but doesn't pull down his mask to drink. "I've been studying how soul mates work. The Yamanaka have done a few studies into it, because it seems like it can affect their jutsu." He sighs. "From what I can find, there's nothing that says soul mates have to stay together. It's recommended but not necessary."

Sasuke feels the hairs on the back of his neck raise, even though Kiba is telling him what he wants to hear. The bottom drops out of Sasuke's stomach. It happens so fast he's almost dizzy with nausea. Kiba's agreeing with him, but Sasuke feels like he's been stabbed. There's something small in the back of his head asking "why doesn't he want me".

Kiba's head snapped up, glancing around the room and Sasuke knows that it's him feeling Sasuke's emotions from the other end of the bond. Kiba finds nothing and frowns. "Sasuke? Is something wrong?"

The nausea breaks with the concern in Kiba's tone. Sasuke isn't unwanted.

Sasuke can breathe again, but another, deeper horror settles in his stomach. "N-nothing."

"That was not nothing." Kiba said.

"Shut up! It's none of your business." Sasuke can feel his hands trembling.

So this is the weakness his father spoke about. The mere suggestion that Kiba, that this stranger, might not want him tore something so deep inside Sasuke he barely understood it. It was terrifying.

Or it should've been. Instead, it felt natural. Sasuke only felt sick that he didn't feel sick.

It was like Kiba mattered.

He didn't. He couldn't.

Revenge is the only thing Sasuke can care about. Otherwise, he'll slow down. He'll grind to a stop.

Sasuke clenches his shaking hands. "I don't want -"

A soul mate, Sasuke can't quite bring himself to say.

Sasuke only sees Kiba's flinch because he's looking. A fraction of a second and it was gone. It's doesn't seem like he has the same visceral reaction Sasuke did

Kiba looks at him. "Are you sure?"

The wind howled outside. It almost sounded like voices. Sasuke hunched over his milk. "I'm sure."

"Well. That's that, then." Kiba said. He got up and rinsed out the cup he used. "You have nightmares."

Sasuke can't see Kiba's face. "So?"

"It's keeping me awake. Try to get something that will help you sleep. The Yamanaka's sell a tea for that, I think. Look up some mediation. Just do something about it." He put down the mug on the counter. His voice is even. He turns around and looks Sasuke in the eye. "We need to make a deal."

Kiba's not Uchiha. He doesn't know what an insult it is to be looked in the eye; it's like saying 'you're not even powerful enough to worry about your sharingan.

Sasuke takes offense anyway, bristling. "What deal?"

Kiba shows no reaction at his tone. "The soul mate thing isn't going away. Not without a lot of pain. We need to deal with it."

"What the hell do you mean?" Sasuke blurted out, then winced on principle. His mother would've washed his mouth out with soap - but she was dead.

There was nothing she could do now.

Kiba holds out his hand, across the table. "You don't know me and I don't know you. We'll stay away from each other as much as possible and hope it fades naturally. Deal?"

Sasuke sees his name scrawled across Kiba's tanned skin.

"Deal." He says, and takes it.

* * *

And that's it.

The years slip quietly past; Kiba lives life at a coast, content to ignore and be ignored by his classmates. Just like they promised, Sasuke and Kiba don't speak, don't even meet each others eyes. They don't acknowledge each other outside of taijutsu matches, in which Sasuke tries to beat Kiba into the ground.

(Kiba always makes the seal of reconciliation.

Sasuke ignores it every single time.

Iruka-sensei gave up on scolding him for it, eventually.)

The last Uchiha threw himself into training like his life depended on it and blew past the class. Kiba is unsurprised.

Sasuke has reason to be motivated, after all.

Graduation day comes.

Sasuke's nightmares never really stopped, but Kiba won't say anything. He's not the martyr type, to throw himself at Sasuke's resentment just because the of the name on his wrist. No matter how much Hokage-sama hinted, when Kiba 'accidentally' ran in to him on early morning walks.

Sasuke was traumatized, yes, but that didn't give him the right to glare at Kiba like he was garbage. You didn't see Kiba treating people like shit because he lost everything -

"Why do you keep looking at Sasuke?" Shikamaru drawled.

Kiba blinked. He wouldn't consider the Nara a friend, but it was impossible to shake him off. Ino's fault. Once Ino decided she wanted to be your friend, there wasn't much anyone could do to stop her.

Kiba was used to them, by now. "I was staring?" Kiba asked.

Shikamaru looked at Kiba with half lidded eyes. "You got a crush?"

Kiba gave him a look. They were twelve. "No."

Being soul mates could be entirely platonic. Love was unnecessary. All that's needed was… well, need. As far as Kiba could tell, Sasuke latched on to stabilize his mind within Itachi's genjutsu.

Shikamaru's eyes closed with a sigh. "That's good. Ino would eat you alive."

Kiba hummed under his breath. Romance wasn't an area he had experience in - nothing romantic about drowning in your own lungs.

"Have you ever had a crush?" Kiba asked.

Shikamaru jerked like Kiba pinched him. He glanced up at Kiba then down, quick as a thought. He groaned and threw an arm over his face. "Don't just ask such troublesome questions." His tone is flat but there's a hit of red creeping up over his cheeks.

That wasn't a no.

Not Kiba's business. He shrugged internally and went back to his book.

Ten minutes later - after Naruto showed up and started up some stupid fight with Sasuke that Kiba ignored - Iruka called the class to heel.

Iruka smiled at the class. "As of today you are genin. Congratulations."

A cheer broke out. Iruka let it go on for a little bit. Even Shikamaru sat up - slightly. Naruto cheered loudly, and a twinge of impatient satisfaction flickers down from Sasuke's end. Kiba sank lower behind his book, until only his eyes could be seen. His stomach twisted in on itself.

Would Hokage-sama put Sasuke on Kiba's team?

Kiba stared at his book without seeing it. Did he want Sasuke on his team?

He'd take Shikamaru, but Ino-Shika-Cho was too valuable to break up. It wasn't a surprise when Iruka called out Ino, Choji and Shikamaru's names.

Shikamaru groaned under his breath. "Troublesome."

"Why do I have to have such a useless team? Can't I team up with Sasuke-kun?" Ino complained from the front row.

That exhausted the list of children Kiba talked to in class. Kiba sighed. If it came down to it, he could just tap out and go into research and development. He liked learning new things and making stuff. He knew, theoretically how jutsu development worked. It wasn't like he wanted to be a field ninja in the first place.

Inuzuka didn't go into R&D.

He felt his mouth pull down under the mask. He knew that he wasn't the son Tsume wanted, or the little brother that Hana did.

Despite her interest in becoming a vet, Hana was forced to take up the position of clan heir, because no one in the clan would accept Kiba in the role.

Tsume deserved better than a disappointment for a son.

He had to at least try, for their sake.

* * *

Hinata fidgeted in her chair. Her heart fluttered like a bird in her chest with wings beating at her rib-cage. Would her team like her? Would her sensei? Would she be failed, like her some of the older Hyuugas whispered about?

She stares at the familiar wood desk under her hands. Ugly anxiety bubbled in her throat all night, stealing sleep, and she still felt nauseous with it.

Hinata wouldn't blame her sensei if they did. She was useless at most things.

Her father might actually kill her though.

"- and Hyuuga Hinata will be team eight." Iruka-sensei's voice broke through her thoughts like a kick to the stomach.

Hinata's head snapped up. She hadn't been listening! She had no idea who her teammates would be! She should raise her hand, but the very thought of admitting her lapse of attention felt like a boulder in her throat. Father would find out, somehow.

He'd be so disappointed.

Hinata's eyes dropped to her shaking hands again.

Why couldn't she do anything right?

"Hyuuga-san?"

Hinata jumped. "Yes?" She squeaked, looking up.

A boy with a cloth face mask. He had a book almost the size of his torso clutched to his chest like a shield.

It took Hinata a moment to place him. They were in the same class, she's sure, but they've never been introduced. The only people Hinata ever saw him talking to were the Ino-Shika-Cho clan kids.

His name is… Ki-something?

The boy blinked at her reaction, and Hinata felt her face flare up with prickly heat.

"U-um. We should find a place to sit?" He said.

Sit? Together? They've never even spoken before, why would they -

Another boy came up behind the first, but this one she knew the name of at least.

Shino-kun." she said, relieved. They couldn't be called friends, but Hinata is more comfortable around him than the other boys. Shino is quiet.

"Hinata. We should sit together. Why? Because we are all on team eight now." Shino said, voice monotone.

Hinata's cheeks grew darker. That was the obvious connection. Why else would the masked boy talk with her?

"R-right!" She stumbled out of her chair and the three of them made their way to the back of the room where there were enough open seats for the three of them. They sat down, and - nothing. Neither of the boys said a word, and every time Hinata opened her mouth, the oppressive silence choked her.

Hinata's eyes stung and she fiddled with her coat sleeves.

This was going to be a disaster.

* * *

The door to the academy never seemed so intimidating — not even when Kurenai had been a student there herself. Inside she could hear the chatter of brand new genin. Three of them were going to be her students.

Kurenai had to smooth out her face, lest the proud smile show up again. It was an honor to be chosen for such an important duty. These genin were heirs and second born, the future of Konoha - and Hokage-sama selected her, a new jounin, for the job!

Deep breaths. Calm.

A shinobi was always in control of their emotions. She didn't want to make a bad first impression.

With that in mind, Kurenai slid the door open wide and walked in, head held high and spine straight.

The chunin at the desk looked up and smiled. "Kurenai-san. Right on time." Iruka stood up and leaned on the desk. "Team eight, please come down to the front!"

Kurenai gave him a smile and tried not to look like she was watching her new genin's movements like a hawk. "Thank you, Iruka-san."

"It's no problem. You wouldn't believe how hard it is for jounin to show up anywhere on time."

Ah. Kakashi was supposed to take on another team this year, wasn't he?

Three students in the back stood up, and made their way down to the front of the class. Every jounin sensei was given a profile for their genin, just so they knew what they had to work with and Kurenai already knew Hinata.

Hyūga Hinata looked pale and kept her eyes down on the floor. Her fingers were engaged in a complicated dance of fidgets and she appeared to be muttering to herself. Her chakra was twisting in on itself in a painful feeling spiral.

Aburame Shino was a near clone of his father, and a typical member of his clan. The dark grey coat covered his face and the sunglasses on his eyes concealed still more. He wasn't quite skilled enough to cover up the way his hive was buzzing in agitation though. Something to work on.

Inuzuka Kiba was dressed in a blue kimono top with wide sleeves over some type of mesh that went to his wrist. He had a white fur ruff around his neck and dark pants, with black bracers around his wrists. If Kurenai didn't have his file, she would have pegged him for civilian born. The mask was strange for an Inuzuka.

The three of them stood in front of her unease in every line in their bodies.

Kurenai glanced over the room. "Are we waiting for your partner, Kiba-kun?" She asked.

The Inuzuka flinched; his right hand circled around his left wrist. "I don't have one." His voice was soft and so quiet that she almost didn't catch it.

It takes a second for the words to register. Kurenai realized, a moment to late, that there was no mention of a partner in Kiba's file. She just assumed...Kurenai glanced at Iruka who grimaced.

Kurenai couldn't' stop the small frown that crossed her face. Would Kiba really be useful in a tracking team like her own? Perhaps Hokage-sama figured that having the byakugan, kikaichu and a ninken on one team would be overkill.

The boy looked miserable. Kurenai cleared her throat. "I see. In that case, let's get going.

The three of them follow her out like baby ducklings in a row.

Genin were so  _cute_.

Ten minutes at the training ground and Kurenai was having second thoughts. She could count the number of words her students had spoken on one hand. Hinata was too shy, Shino too taciturn, and Kiba disappeared into the background when Kurenai wasn't paying attention. None of them were the type to start a conversation.

Kurenai smiled. "Why don't we introduce ourselves? My name is Yuuhi Kurenai and my favorite color is red. Obviously, I'm a jounin. I like genjutsu, sweet foods and teaching. I dislike people who slack off, yellow as a concept, and perverts. My dream is to teach at least three jounin, and that means you three better get used to working hard." She pointed to Hinata. "You next."

The three of them stared at her like she'd suggested killing the Hokage. She stared back, still smiling. She would make them more sociable if it killed them. Kurenai would not fail in teaching her first genin team.

Hinata swallowed. "My - my name is H-hinata. I-I like..." She flushed. "The color o-orange, and p-pressing flowers. I d-dislike m-mean people. M-my dream is t-to become s-stronger."

"Excellent job, Hinata." Kurenai nodded to Shino next.

The Aburame adjusted his sunglasses. "Aburame Shino. I like studying rare Kikaichu. Why? Because they are useful to my clan. I dislike people who are illogical, or do not like bugs. Why? Because they often react poorly to my clan. My dream is to become a jounin."

Kurenai looked at her last student. It was hard to tell what he was thinking under his mask - and the way his chakra was so masked. Kurenai stopped. How did a genin have that much control over his chakra?

"Inuzuka Kiba." The boy said quietly. He was sitting neatly, a large book on his lap. "My favorite color is dark blue. I like reading, taijutsu, and learning new things. I dislike strong smells, loud noises, and people who expect me to conform to clan stereotypes. My dream is..." Kiba paused. "To learn more about sealing, or work Research and Development in the future.

Just like that, the conversation was over. Kurenai waited for a moment, but none of the genin had anything to add. She clapped her hands together. The genin looked up, startled.

"There's no time like the present. Let's start with a spar, so I can get an idea of your levels."

She'd have to beat socializing into them later. How hard could it be?

Three weeks later, Kurenai was bitterly regretting her thoughts.

Individually, team eight was composed of model genin. Hinata was punctual, always considerate, and a monster at taijutsu when she forgot to be shy. Shino was efficient, focused, and talented at his clan jutsus. Kiba seemed to know a little bit about everything, his manners were impeccable, and his stealth was chunin level.

It wasn't that her genin were unwilling to work. In contrast, they worked very hard, and breezed through d-ranks. They swept yards and caught cats and babysat children without a word of complaint.

That was, of course, the problem.

She could on one hand the number of times her three genin had a conversation that lasted more than three lines - without Kurenai's influence - and all of those times were related to a mission. Asuma was always complaining about the way his genin never shut up, how he had to break up fights between the Yamanaka and the Nara, how he had to bribe the Akimichi to do anything remotely like work and Kurenai was  _jealous_.

Kurenai's genin were well behaved, but they didn't feel like a team.

Hinata was a mess of nerves, and flinched whenever the boys talked to her. Shino was a tiny vicious ball of passive aggressiveness. Kiba acted like stiffer and more formal version of Kurenai's grandmother. Taking tea with him was like being twelve and gangly again. Plus, he was always reading.

It was exhausting.

(At least she didn't get team seven. The thought of Kakashi's long suffering face hidden behind his book still cheered her up. His little band of hellions didn't fight. They waged war.

It couldn't have happened to a nicer person.)

The worst part of it was that her genin were doing their best. They ate together, if silently. They worked as a team, if coldly. They trained and sparred, if only out of the desire to improve.

There was just… something missing.

Kurenai can't help but wish Kiba was a bit more like the rest of his clan. If he had a brash personality, it'd give Shino someone to play off and Hinata would be drawn in by default. It'd give the team a place to spark from. Then Kurenai remember Kiba's dislikes, and shook the thought away. She was a genjutsu mistress, and she knew the dangers of 'what if'.

She'd make due with what she had.

* * *

Dinner time at the Inuzuka compound was always loud. Even when the head family at alone, Kiba heard laughter from the other houses, and children fighting, people sparing. Tsume sat at the head of the table, with Kuromaru at her side. All the tables in the compound were the traditional low kind, to accommodate Ninken. Hana sat to Tsume's right.

Kiba steeled his nerves. Courage.

"I'm moving out of the compound." He said.

The peaceful atmosphere shattered.

"Say that again, brat? I think I'm going deaf in my old age." Tsume barked.

Kiba met his mother's eyes. Looking away would mean surrender. "I have a place picked out already," Kiba said. "It's an apartment by the Akimichi food stalls in the market. They rent at a discount for shinobi so it should be easy to keep up without clan help —"

"Kiba, what are you talking about?" Hana demanded, setting her chopsticks down with a click. "You're barely a genin. Why would you need to move out? The clan -"

"The clan treats me like I'm dying" Kiba snapped, losing control of his temper for the first time in his life. "I'm not made of glass! I'm a shinobi but even the civilians are treated less delicately. Just because I don't have a ninken, the clan thinks I'm - I'm  _broken_."

Maybe he was. His chest was hollow, grief an old friend. Some nights he couldn't breath for the breath and scope of loss he carried.

But.

He wasn't dead yet. His heart still beat, steady. He was stronger, faster, than his last life, and the clan treated him like porcelain. Kiba already had the few elders of the clan looking to make a marriage for him, some strong young woman to 'take care of him', like a child.

He was sick to death of  _pity_.

Kiba'd endured enough for two lifetimes.

Hana reared back, eyes wide.

Fast as it came, the anger drained. Kiba rubbed his face. It wasn't Hana's fault. "Sorry."

Tsume was still watching him. Her hand was buried in Kuromaru's ruff, and her scent was tightly controlled. "Will it make you happy?"

Kiba blinked. "I don't know." He said, surprised enough to tell the truth. "It might."

Tsume's mouth pulled down, but she sighed. "Alright, pup. Send the paperwork my way after dinner, and I'll take a look at it myself. Make sure it's all in order."

She said… yes?

"Mom?" Hana asked, tone incredulous. "He's twelve! He can't live by himself, that's —"

"He's a genin now, Hana. That makes him an adult in the eyes of the village. If he wants to live on his own, he can."

"But—"

"Pipe down, brat. He was going to do it anyway. This was just politeness." Tsume flashed him a fanged smile, expression knowing. "Better to ask forgiveness than permission."

She said yes.

Kiba felt like a balloon with it's string cut; a current of bubbling relief pushed him upwards. He smiled back at Tsume. She was right. Kiba already contacted the Akimichi yesterday. He was only informing Tsume out of respect. "Right."

Tsume laughed. "You're too much like me, pup."

The dinner got back on track, even if Hana kept giving Tsume incredulous looks. say anything else. Kiba ignored the confused, hurt looks Hana sent his way.

After dinner, Tsume looked over the paperwork the Akimichi landlord gave him with approving eyes. "Looks solid enough. I think it'll do."

Kiba accepted back the papers. All of his belongings were packed up into storage scrolls already, including the things that he knew a new apartment needed. He smiled at Tsume. "Thank you."

Before he could make his escape, Tsume caught him by the shoulder. "Dinner once a week." She said.

It wasn't a request.

"Okay." It was a small price to pay for his freedom. He hugged Tsume in a rare show of affection. She smelled like the spices used in dinner and Kuromaru. Like home.

"Love you, mom." He murmured. It was the truth. She never doubted his ability, the same way Hana did. They were family and it was never about them.

It was everyone else that got on his nerves.

Tsume sighed and ruffled his hair, but the look on her face is fond. "Love you too, pup. Even if you're a walking headache."

* * *

 


End file.
